In A Flash
by Lyn Piton
Summary: In the summer before Harry's sixth year, Snape learns of an unknown connection. What will he say when he realizes Harry knew all along? Mildly AU, Severitus Challenge Response.
1. To Locate the Truth

**_Disclaimer:_**_The world of Harry Potter belongs to JKR. Most of this plot belongs to the lovely Severitus or one of the other talented writers that have attempted her challenge. I'm just giving you my version. --Piton_

**Chapter One - To Locate the Truth**

The sun was setting on a perfectly ordinary neighborhood. It was that period at dusk where all is quiet and still, the youngest children are asleep and the oldest still out causing trouble far from home. The neighborhood lay in lazy silence until the peace was broken by a small figure creeping out of the front door of number 4 Privet Drive. The figure was shrouded in a huge, hooded black cloak, and while it was impossible to discern the sex of the child, it was obvious that, male or female, the figure was not in good health. Bent over at the waist, the figure staggered down the street, finally stopping at a corner out of sight of his point of origination. No sooner had the figure thrust up his arm than there was a great flash of light, followed by a purple double-decker bus. As soon as the figure had managed to haul himself aboard, the bus was gone, and Privet Drive returned to the previous hazy stillness, the neighborhood completely unaware they had lost an occupant. Harry Potter had had enough.

No more than half an hour later, when darkness had completely fallen, the serenity of number 4 was again disturbed. A series of _cracks_ rang through the air, and the shadows around the house began to move as thirty men crept through the door. Clad in robes of utter black, they may have been invisible were it not for the white masks that gleamed softly under the streetlights. As the door shut behind the final man, a scream shattered the night, only to be cut short by three flashes of green light visible through the first story windows. The silence became even more profound than before, only to give way to an ungodly shriek, _"Where is he?_ With the echoes from the outburst still ringing in the air, the house, as if in response, exploded into flames. Three bodies and a lifetime of possessions were almost instantly reduced to ash, and soon the only reminder of the house that once sat on that spot was the shimmering green sign above the rubble.

----------

"I think it's pretty clear I'm no longer trusted, Albus. I believe he may have found evidence of my treachery while delving through Potter's mind." Severus Snape paced impatiently in Albus Dumbledore's office, calling out his suspicions to the man in the next room. "Several mentions have been made of Voldemort's 'grand plan,' but if there are details set I have not been made aware of them. For him to plan anything important and not inform me cannot mean anything good."

Receiving no reply, he heaved an exaggerated sigh and threw himself into a chair. While awaiting Dumbledore's return, Snape gazed around the office. Much had been repaired since Potter's little tantrum in the spring, he noted, although Albus's desk was missing most of the shining silver ornaments it had displayed in previous years. The only instrument Albus had bothered repairing was a large silver sphere, made of thin chains of silver linked together in a lacy pattern. Severus had always found this ornament particularly repugnant. As he stared in loathing, the sphere began to spin rapidly, emitting flashes of various colored lights before settling on a sickly green hue. The effect resembled a manic Easter egg, and Snape's mood sank even further. "Disgusting," he muttered. Raising his voice he called out, "Albus, could you possibly explain why you chose to restore the most emphatically bourgeois piece in your little collection of silver toys? How can you deal with something spinning and flashing all the time? As much as I appreciate the Slytherin green, it's really--"

Snape trailed off mid-rant as Dumbledore tore through the door, halting just inside the room as he stared, fire in his eyes, at the little instrument twinkling steadily. "It would appear that we have discovered Voldemort's grand plan, Severus," he remarked gravely. As Snape gawked, Albus took a deep breath and shut his eyes for an instant before continuing his flight into the room, where he began a sequence of urgent movements. He stepped over to the fireplace, threw a handful of powder into the fire, and leaning in shouted, "Minerva McGonagall!"

After a slight pause, the assistant Headmistress's head appeared. "What do you need, Albus?"

"It has happened, Minerva," Dumbledore responded shortly. "Please come through."

McGonagall's head disappeared, only for her body to emerge from the fireplace. Snape could not help but notice that she was shaking so hard she barely managed to stay on her feet upon arrival, and her face was pale and drawn. "What does the sphere say, Albus? Has the worst happened?"

Dumbledore's air of power and strength disappeared for a moment as he answered heavily, "Unfortunately, that does appear to be the case."

Snape, in spite of himself, was beginning to feel a sense of unease. Covering it with anger, he snapped, "Will someone please tell me what is going on? If you don't feel it prudent to inform me, perhaps it would be better if I left for the dungeons."

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a look before Albus replied. "That bourgeois silver toy, as you so eloquently labeled it, works as a sensor for Harry Potter's house." Seeing the potion master's mouth twist into its most vicious sneer, he hastily added, "The spinning means that the wards are down."

Severus began to feel a peculiar numbness in his legs. "And the light?" He asked emotionlessly.

Dumbledore regarded him seriously, blue eyes seeing through his heart. "The appearance of the light indicates that one or more curses have been used on the premises. The color of the light indicates the type of curse."

Silence rang throughout the room. Nothing more needed to be said; all three wizards were far too familiar with the only curse to show that particular shade of green.

----------

As soon as the Knight Bus departed after depositing Harry right outside the gates of Hogwarts, he collapsed painfully. Struggling to stay conscious, he began to crawl toward the castle, shaking with exertion. In his panic, it seemed that he was not moving in the slightest. While he inched forward laboriously, he contemplated the reaction his appearance would cause.

_'Dumbledore will be upset that I haven't improved in my Occlumency, but as long as he pays attention to my information, I don't really care,'_ he thought sourly. Even though Harry knew, deep in his heart, that Sirius's death the previous spring was the fault of no one and everyone (although primarily the fault of Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort), there was a part of him that could not stop blaming Dumbledore for his godfather's death. Even this part of him acknowledged that more of the fault lay elsewhere than with the Headmaster. _'Yeah, it lies with Snape,'_ another part of him snorted angrily. Snape had been immature and behaved badly, Harry knew this. All these parts, however, were minuscule compared to the part of him that was shouting, _'It's all your fault, dolt! You killed the only family that ever cared about you, and you almost killed most of your friends in the same go! Everything that Snape said about you was right. You are reckless, and arrogant, and just as Hermione said, you have an awful hero-complex.'_

_'Shut up!'_ Harry retorted to himself. _'At least my hero complex is not acting now. I'm coming to Dumbledore with my vision, like a good little boy, instead of trying to help where I might be needed.'_

Harry's internal argument came to an abrupt halt as his hands slipped on the wet grass and he went sprawling. Since the ground was on a downward slope at this point, Harry began to slide, then roll, picking up speed, unable to break his momentum. Just before the bottom of the slope he rolled into a tree with a soft grunt. Slightly stunned by the impact, he lay motionless at the base of the tree, trying to withhold a screech of pain. _'Just what I needed to get me moving faster,'_ he thought sarcastically.

The summer, so far, had been going exceptionally badly. The Dursley's reacted gleefully to the news of Sirius's death, gloating over the fact that Harry's wellbeing was no longer the concern of a convicted murderer. The first thing Uncle Vernon had Harry do upon his return to Privet Drive was write a huge pile of letters for Vernon and Petunia to send to "the freaks from the station" every three days. After that, Vernon began his campaign to beat the magic out of him.

_'It wasn't so bad,'_ Harry thought dryly, _'at least I got plenty of practice dressing wounds. Maybe Madam Pomfrey would take me on as an assistant.'_ He was desperately hoping no one would notice him until he got into Hogwarts. He was too frightened, even on the grounds, to attempt any magic concealing his injuries--he didn't want another hearing at the Ministry! He was counting on the magic of Hogwarts covering a couple concealment charms once he got through the doors.

Gritting his teeth, he used his good arm to push himself up. After an abortive attempt to stand, he realized he would have to continue at a crawl. _'At least I'm harder to see with my belly dragging through the grass,'_ he thought in resignation.

----------

The tableau in the Headmaster's office finally managed to break into action. "Fawkes!" Dumbledore called, and with a trill the beautiful phoenix flew to his side. Dumbledore hastily scrawled two messages to give the bird. "The first goes to Arthur Weasley at the Ministry, and the second to whoever's on duty at the Order headquarters." Fawkes nodded his head regally and disappeared in a burst of flame.

"Minerva!" Albus continued. "Go to Privet Drive and see what you can find out. Apparate to Arabella Figg's house and have her go with you." Minerva nodded her head slightly before leaving the room.

Alone again, the two remaining men regarded each other. "Severus," Dumbledore began, "Check the castle and grounds for Harry. If he somehow managed to escape the attack, it would be reasonable for him to have headed for Hogwarts. If he cannot be found on the grounds, contact some of your former friends and see if they know where he is." Dumbledore's voice deepened dangerously in the last sentence.

More shaken by the sight of the sphere still flashing its alert than he would like to admit, Severus sneered as he stood. "Potter was probably out with his little friends, receiving adulation from his fan club," he commented derisively.

Dumbledore stared at him evenly for a second before brushing past him toward the door. He paused in the entrance, and turned back slightly. "Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster?" The reply was automatic and slightly mocking.

Dumbledore turned fully back into the room, and he and Snape locked eyes. "You know how it feels to do something hurtful to someone else. Harry is not his father. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. If you happen to find him, listen to what he has to say. The two of you are more alike than you think." Before Snape could respond, Dumbledore was gone.

Snape sat back down heavily. He pulled out his wand and commanded, "_Point me Harry Potter._" The wand spun crazily for a moment, finally stopping with such a jolt that Severus dropped it onto the floor. He stared at it blankly, almost afraid to touch it. "It does not appear that any of us will be finding Potter, Albus."

----------

Harry was making his slow way up the stairs to the main entrance when the doors flew open, revealing one pissed off Severus Snape. Harry cringed and shrank into the side of the staircase, hoping he would not be seen in the shadows. He had forgotten that Professor Snape was a professional at skulking. Still, the professor had passed and Harry was about to breath a sigh of relief when a hand shot back and jerked him to his feet. Letting out the slightest whimper, Harry stood, weaving slightly, keeping his face lowered so as to be hidden in the shadow of his hood. _'So close,'_ he thought, waiting with baited breath. _'Of all the people in the world, Snape is the last I want to see me like this.'_

Snape studied the figure in front of him. He knew it had to be a child; only Flitwick was that short as an adult. The figure listed drunkenly, and Snape pushed down his haste and reached out to push back the hood, in order to identify what had to be a student, back in the summer for reasons unknown. The reaction was immediate.

With a yelp, Harry scrambled away from the fast approaching hand. Breathing rapidly, he stepped back so shakily that he fell down the stairs. At the bottom, he lay motionless, biting through his lip with pain.

Snape stared, bewildered. In all his years as Hogwarts' resident heartless bastard, he had never seen anyone react to him that way. Uneasily he made his way down to the child, stopping awkwardly on the step above him. Crouching, he spoke softly. "Listen, boy, I am going to lift your cloak and make sure you're not hurt. Just lay still."

He slowly reached for the hood and pulled it down. As he caught sight of the boy's face, a small tic in his jaw was the only indication of a reaction. The boy's face was a mask of bruises, dried blood, and scabs, with several deeper cuts still oozing slightly. The hair was matted with blood and dirt, making it impossible to discern the color. Having no idea who he was speaking to, Snape continued awkwardly. "Are you able to speak? Can you tell me your name?"

Harry remained silent. As long as he was unidentified the professor was being almost civil; he wasn't stupid. After a long pause, Snape sighed in resignation. "Very well, are you able to walk? If not, I will have to carry you to the hospital wing."

Harry gingerly lifted his head as he slowly pushed himself up. Leaning on the stair rail, he managed to reach an almost fully upright position. Snape looked at him doubtfully. "There are not rails to hold all the way to the infirmary, boy. Can you walk on your own?"

Feeling a flush of anger at Snape's condescending tone, Harry let go of the rail and tried to take a step. The movement caused a wave of dizziness, and his vision started to fade as he felt himself falling. No longer fully conscious, he hardly realized he hadn't hit the floor--instead, he was floating quickly to the hospital wing. Harry tried to investigate his situation. No longer bothering to try seeing out of his swollen eyes, he listened to vaguely familiar sweeping footfalls. Leaning his head into the strong chest behind him, he smelled a combination of lavender, mint, and... mandrake root? _'That can't possibly be right.'_ Harry decided dizzily that he did not care who was carrying him, and he snuggled his head against the shoulder behind as he dropped fully into unconsciousness.

Snape halted, looking down in irritation at the annoying boy that was currently cuddling against his chest. _'Heaven save me from whining infants,'_ he thought in irritation, as the boy let out a soft sigh and finally relaxed, cuddling closer. He knew the child had passed out, and began walking even faster, trying to ignore the niggling little voice in the back of his head that was commenting on how good it felt to receive the smallest indication of appreciation.

----------

Harry woke up to the sound of voices.

"Good Lord, Severus, who is that? What happened?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in shock.

Snape's voice cut her off. "I don't know who it is or what happened, I was leaving the castle to look for the Potter brat when I saw this boy hiding in the shadows. I brought him here because I thought you'd be able to answer those questions instead of spitting them at me like I hold the answers of the world."

There was a short silence, then Poppy's indignant huff as Snape carefully and surprisingly gently laid Harry onto an empty bed. He took a step back, then snapped, "Well what are you waiting for? Do your job, woman!"

Harry could almost hear Poppy's eyes roll as she waved her wand and began listing injuries. "He is a 15-16 year-old boy, I'd guess he hasn't eaten a full meal since he left here for the summer. He has a broken left arm, two cracked ribs, sprained right ankle and jaw, broken collarbone, and multiple bruises and lacerations, including two hand-shaped imprints around his throat. There is some evidence of internal injury, although I would need to test more thoroughly to know for sure. It appears that he has been whipped with a belt or small stick at least twice." Her voice trailed off in alarm. "Gods, what happened to him?" She breathed.

"Considering the timing, I would guess he either ran away from home or should have," Snape responded dryly. "I know he fell down the main entry stairs about five minutes ago." He paused. "Have you heard from Albus?" He asked carefully.

Poppy's voice sounded confused. "Not since this morning, why?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Snape answered hastily. "I suppose I should head off then." Footsteps moving away, and then Harry vaguely heard him mutter, _"Point me Harry Potter."_ A slight pause before Snape's wand clattered to the floor, and a longer pause followed before Harry heard Snape take a deep breath and ask almost timidly, "Poppy?"

Bustling around the room, Poppy barely heard him. "What is it, Severus?"

He swallowed audibly. "Have you figured out the boy's identity yet?"

Her footsteps came to a sudden halt. "No, why?"

"Well" Snape seemed, for once in his life, to be at a loss for words. "Just look at this." Harry managed to pry his blackened eyes open in time to see Snape, wand once again in hand, repeat _"Point me Harry Potter!" _ The wand remained still for a moment before swinging over to point directly at Harry, then spinning crazily for a couple seconds, then repeating the entire cycle before plummeting to the floor. Severus and Poppy stared at the wand, then at each other. As one, they swung the heads over to stare at Harry.

Uncomfortable both physically and emotionally, Harry attempted a smile that came out as more like a grimace. "Hello, sir, madam," he mumbled as politely as he could.

The three might have stood there indefinitely, the two teachers staring into Harry's emerald eyes in bemusement and Harry staring shyly at the floor, were it not for the arrival of the Headmaster. "Severus, here you are, have you finished searching the grounds?"

Snape slowly turned his head to Dumbledore. "Not quite," he managed in a strangled tone. "Albus, can you please try the Point Me spell for Potter?"

Dumbledore looked pointedly at the wand clasped in the potion masters hand, but answered mildly, "I don't see why not. _Point me Harry Potter._" The occupants of the room stared in varying degrees of disbelief as Dumbledore's wand performed the same acrobatics Snape's had. The Headmaster slowly shook his head before stepping over to the bed. "Harry?" He asked in an uncharacteristically uncertain voice.

Harry looked up at him timidly, remembering their last meeting. "Professor," he responded flatly.

Dumbledore looked intently into Harry's eyes, studying him for a moment as his face began to register a strange combination of incredulity and comprehension. He bent down, picked up his wand, and, with one last glance at Harry, intoned, "_Point me Harry._" Unswervingly, the wand immediately turned to Harry.

Catching on, Poppy raised her wand and spoke. "_Point me Potter._" The wand spun aimlessly and fell. The nurse and Headmaster looked at each other for a long moment while Snape, forgotten in the corner, turned an unpleasant shade of green.

Harry was the first to speak. "What does this mean, Professor?" he slurred through a sprained jaw.

The reappearing twinkle abruptly left Albus's eyes. "We'll discuss it when you are feeling better, Harry," he said firmly, and before Harry could complain, he felt a hand on his forehead and everything faded away.

**_A/N:_**_ Like it? Hate it? Have a favorite color you want the world to know? Please review--I need all the help I can get. Flames will be used to create a festive bonfire around which I will sing anything but Cumbaya._


	2. Harry Who?

**_Disclaimer: _**_ See Chapter One._

**_A/N: _**_It becomes increasingly obvious in this chapter that I am hardly adhering to the rules of Severitus' Challenge; but it's really the thought that counts anyway, right? Responses to reviews at the end of the chapter._

**Chapter 2 - Harry Who?**

After Harry fell asleep, Albus was the first to speak. "Poppy, please let me know when he wakes. Severus, come with me. I think we have some things to talk about." Poppy nodded officiously as Albus swept out of the room, trailed by a strangely reluctant potions master. They walked in silence all the way up to the Headmaster's office, the gargoyle jumping out of the way as soon as it sensed his presence. Once inside, Albus immediately strode to his desk, where he began rummage through the drawers. Without looking up, he said mildly, "Well, do sit down, Severus. Tell me, what do you think of Slytherin's chance for the Quidditch Cup this year?"

Snape stared, mouth working furiously. "Don't you think it might be wise to discuss what just happened, sir?"

Albus, now sifting through a large pile of parchment from the bookshelf next to Fawkes's perch, hummed merrily. "Hmm? What exactly happened that is worrying you?"

Snape lost it. "Damn it, Albus, you know what I'm referring to. That damn locator spell. Why can it find Harry but not Harry Potter?"

Albus straightened, clutching an envelope in his left hand as he turned to stroke Fawkes with his right. "Judging from your expression in the hospital wing, I'd say you don't need me to tell you the answer," he said softly. Fawkes nodded his head and let out a trill as Dumbledore gave him one final pat before facing Severus. "This," he said, holding out the envelope, "is a letter from Harry's mother, to be given to Harry either on his sixteenth birthday or, as Lily phrased it, in the case that Harry has questions regarding his identity."

Snape took a step back, unable to tear his eyes away from the seemingly innocuous beige rectangle. With only the slightest catch in his voice, he snarled, "And what does this have to do with me, Albus? Am I demoted to the post of Gryffindor Golden Boy's personal post owl?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly. "Ah, I see, my apologies for thinking your question indicated curiosity. I suppose, since you obviously haven't the time or inclination to put your mind to this matter, you would not be interested to hear that Lily also left a letter for you, to be read three days before Harry receives this one."

Snape grimaced in irritation as Dumbledore gave him an innocent smile and nonchalantly walked over to sit at his desk. Completely ignoring the frozen man in front of him, Albus placidly began looking over his paperwork. Snape reluctantly cleared his throat. He would not beg for a letter from the woman stupid enough to marry an idiot and sire the most obnoxious excuse for a wizard he'd ever encountered. "If you have nothing more to say, I suppose I should take my leave--" he started, when Dumbledore cut him off.

"Your letter is sitting on your office desk. Harry will receive his 72 hours from now, regardless of whether you read yours or not." The old wizard looked up, all traces of levity gone from face and voice. "If you choose to read it--and I suggest you do--keep an open mind, Severus. Remember, appearances are often misleading, and hasty judgments have a nasty way of being wrong." The Headmaster turned his attention back to his work, effectively dismissing the potions master.

Snape scowled at him for a second, without gaining the slightest reaction, before sweeping out of the office. He stalked angrily through the halls, finally throwing open the door to his office to see the expected envelope lying quietly in the center of his desk. He sagged against the doorframe. "Lily, how many times are you going to punish me?" He whispered bleakly, but the empty room gave no answer.

----------

Snape sat at his desk going over lesson plans. The innocent envelope seemed to flash at him accusingly. Finally, he could not take it anymore. _'Come on Severus, not even you can honestly be frightened of a piece of parchment,'_ he scoffed to himself before resolutely ripping out the letter. Taking a deep, calming breath, he began to read.

_Dearest Severus,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, although I cannot understand why I care. I hope you are happy and healthy, and that life has dealt you an easier hand than what you have received in the past. Understand that I have, and will always, love you. I realize that I am not what you want in a lover, and the thought hurts me almost more than I can bear. I might have resorted to wallowing in the pain was it not for the knowledge that there is still someone who needs me._

_ Severus, I am pregnant with a child, your son._

_Should we all live through the dark times that face us, I hope one day to have the opportunity to tell you this to your face. You are a decent, intelligent man and I know you do not really believe in the lord you have sworn to serve. I have no doubt that you will live to see the error of your ways; I only hope that I will still be around when you do, and that we may have a chance to be the family you've always longed for; you, me and little Harry._

_I have given this letter to Dumbledore in case of my death, a possibility that is rapidly becoming an eventuality. We have pulled the final trick up our sleeves; we should not be found but my increasing sense of unease gnaws at me._

_I have so much to say and so little time to say it. _

_Given your current mindset, I could not entrust this to a time-delayed owl. If I have died, you are probably wondering why the child I claim is yours bears such an astonishing resemblance to James Potter. After you left me, suddenly alone and two months pregnant, he agreed to marry me and provide a means to hide my child. Since then we have been developing a battery of charms in order to hide the paternity of the baby. (A well-placed glamourie removal spell would reveal most of our hard work; I am hoping it will not become commonplace in the future.) All of Harry's features that he inherited from you have been replaced with those of James: knowing how Harry appears under the charms I am certain that, should his true appearance become known, you would be unable to hide your relationship. _

_Being familiar with these types of spells, you realize that they will fade and need to be reset as the child's powers reach their full potential, which should be around 16 or 17. If I am gone and you still pose a threat to my baby at that time, Albus has the means to restore the child's appearance to what he currently bears. I truly hope that won't be necessary._

_I know if you have received this letter you have returned to the side of the Light, and it is my firmest hope that you and my son learn to be the family you both must need so desperately. I want my son to know the love of my life. Give him the care I am not there to give myself. All I ask, Severus, is that if you still retain any prejudices that may make my son appear unappealing to you, immediately forget this letter and don't contact him. He does not deserve to pay for the foolish affairs of his mother._

_Foolish or not, I would not change anything, Severus. Our time together was heavenly. I am still greatly hurt by your decision, but I still offer forgiveness, I still retain hope. Hope for you and me, for you and Harry. Please help this dream to become a reality._

_Love,_

_Lily Evans Potter_

Severus set down the parchment as gently as he would a piece of glass. His heart was pounding and his breathing fast, as if he'd just ran to the Forbidden Forest and back. The combination of love, guilt, confusion, incredulity, and pain throbbed through his head, and for a moment he was certain he'd be ill. He did not doubt her letter, everything fit together too well for it to be a hoax, but the irony of the situation threatened to overwhelm him. The life, the family he'd long since given up on had suddenly appeared within reach.

In Potter.

Potter, upon whom he had focused all his anger, jealousy, and regret; Potter, who sat in his class every day for the past five years, staring at him with hatred in Lily's eyes.

He sat carefully at his desk, still and silent, trying to stop his mind, to get off this track before he crashed into the devastating truth--

It was his fault. Not Potter's. Everything was his fault. That broken child in the infirmary was like that because of him.

With an animalistic growl, he stood drunkenly, and swept everything from his desk onto the floor. Flasks shattered and papers flew, but it was not enough to overshadow the storm breaking within.

"Why? How?" he hissed, the silken tones of the dreaded potions master replaced by the barely restrained howl of a man in pain.

The stone walls offered no answer. Jerkily, Severus unsteadily stood and stepped away from his desk. He had to go to the hospital wing. He had to see Po... Harry. He had to prevent his mistakes of 16 years ago from causing any more pain.

----------

Harry blearily opened his eyes. He was not sure how long he had slept, but it had felt like ages. He sat up carefully, testing each body part. _'Madam Pomfrey seems to have worked her magic again,'_ he thought wryly.

A rustling sound drew his attention to the other side of the room. Professor Snape sat in the shadows, watching him intently. After an awkward pause, Snape cleared his throat and said stiffly, "So, Potter, it appears you have recovered well. Might we be able to expect an explanation for your miraculous appearance anytime soon?"

Harry frowned. "I know you aren't happy to see me, Professor, but it was important that I speak to Dumbledore. I understand the danger, but it was an emergency and there was no way my family would let me send an owl, so I just... left."

It was Severus's turn to frown. "Are you telling me that you snuck out of your house because of some stupid school-boy problem?" He scowled in disgust. "Not a big surprise, I suppose--after all, the great Harry Potter always knows what is best." He sneered. "Are you aware that you had the entire castle looking for you? In your incredible arrogance, did you even stop to think about anyone else?" He took a breath. He was losing his train of thought; he had expected Potter to be screaming by now, but instead of anger and indignation, there was an arrested look on the boy's face as he stared intently at his teacher.

"What happened?" the boy asked softly.

Severus grimaced. He was not the one to be having this conversation. "Don't you think you should answer my questions, Potter, before presuming to demand answers of your own?"

The boy continued to stare, and Severus had to shiver. For a moment, he had seen Lily peering out of those eyes, seen the same expression of disappointment that she had worn every time he saw her after _that_ night. Then the boy opened his mouth and it was just Potter again,

"You were surprised at my reason for coming, implying there is another reason for me to be here that I am not aware of. Everyone was looking for me, yet Dumbledore is not notified for something as trivial as me simply leaving the premises." Pot... Harry looked up at Severus with a dead look in his eyes. "It happened, didn't it," he stated heavily. "I tried so hard to prevent it, I tried to tell them but they wouldn't listen, they locked me up." Harry's voice trailed off as his eyes clouded in pain.

Severus stared at him blankly. "Perhaps now would be a good time to tell why you came after all," he said, the typical harsh tone missing from his deep voice.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I had a vision about a week ago. Voldemort found a way through the wards at home and he was planning on coming for me. He also wanted Aunt Petunia and Dudley dead so I would be truly alone. He was planning--" Harry ducked his head, unable to meet Snape's eyes.

Severus was confused. The boy can talk about the death of his entire remaining kin without blinking, and now he's cowering? What could possibly be left? "Spit it out, Potter," he barked.

The boy's head snapped up as he stared evenly at Snape. "He knows about you, sir," the boy said defiantly. "He knows you are a traitor and he was planning to put you under Imperius, and have you rape and kill my aunt and cousin while I watched. He was under the impression that this would cause me to hate you, and even more erroneously thought that my hatred would be devastating for you." He smiled sardonically. "He seems to think we are close for some reason, but he was careful not to be too exact when speaking about that."

Snape gaped at the boy, open-mouthed. His mind flew back to Lily's letter. _Voldemort_ knew? How could he? And the way Harry said "this would cause me to hate you As if he didn't hate him now? Could he possibly...? He was shaken out of his musings by the boy's quiet voice. "Sir... they are dead, aren't they," he whispered, staring at his hands. "I felt his anger earlier, he wasn't happy to find me gone, I'd imagine."

"The Dursleys are dead, Harry, and the house is destroyed." Severus felt unimaginably weary. There was still something disturbing about this whole episode... oh, that's right. "Potter, are you telling me you still cannot close your mind to the Dark Lord?" he asked sharply.

Severus looked on in surprise as Harry glared at him, the first emotion he'd displayed since waking. "Professor, I am completely aware of my failings, you needn't mention them again. I know this is a bad thing, but while I cannot prevent it we may as well use any valid information we receive. I do think I have gotten better at discerning the veracity of the visions, if that is worth anything." Harry's face twisted into a sneer, his eyes dark. "But that's just the type of justification you'd expect to hear from a selfish, arrogant boy like me, isn't it, Snape? I'm just like my father, that's all I ever hear, even though, irony of ironies, everyone but you seems to consider it a compliment. It is too bad that everyone is wrong!" Harry's voice was rising rapidly, his face purple from shouting. "I am not my father! I'm not a bully, I know all too well how it feels to be the butt of everyone's jokes. Do you know how often I walked down to the dungeons to apologize to you last year, Professor? Not for looking in your Pensieve, I knew that was a horrid thing to do but it wasn't as bad as knowing that you think I would act like that _bully_, that I would approve of _anyone_ acting like that. I tried to hate you for stopping my lessons, I tried to blame you for Sirius's death, but the truth is that everything is my fault! Everything," his voice broke, "all the death and the pain I cause my friends just by being me, just by being my freaky self! All the problems I have caused, just by being Harry Potter, James and Lily's son." Gasping for breath, Harry started laughing hysterically. "Well, guess what, Professor, that's just one more thing everyone's wrong about!"

And as Snape watched, shell-shocked, Harry climbed out of bed, strode to Poppy's desk for his wand, and stalked over to stand in front of him. Meeting his eyes in a death glare, Harry pointed the wand at himself and shouted "_Revelo!_" A golden mist surrounded the boy, gently fading away to leave an image Severus recognized from looking in the mirror every day.

-----------

Severus could not move. He couldn't breathe. Lily's eyes were staring at him, accusing him, challenging him from where they were set in a younger version of his own face. Heaven knows how long he would have stood there with his jaw scraping the floor, were it not for Harry's eyes widening in horror as he slowly backed away. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, sir," he stammered. "I didn't mean to say anything, I'm s-sorry." The boy's protests faded into slight whimpers as he pressed himself against the wall, trying to become as small as possible.

Severus blinked. He could deal with a whiny Potter, a surly Potter, even a defiant Potter, but this sad little heap in the corner was completely out of his realm of expertise. Moving slowly, he crept over to Harry, stopping about six inches away, and crouching down to his level. "Harry, I'm not angry, I just wanted--how long have you known?"

Harry snuck a glance at him and sighed. "Since third year, sir," he answered matter-of-factly. "We were studying appearance charms with Professor Flitwick, and he taught us a detection spell, to find any appearance-altering spells on a person. Fortunately I couldn't do it in class, and I was alone in my dormitory when I finally succeeded in casting it. It took longer to actually manage to return to my 'correct' appearance." He laughed humorlessly. "Thank God Hermione happened by after I'd removed the spell and was able to help me restore it."

"You told Granger?" Severus blurted. "Who else knows?"

Harry looked at him in disgust. "Why on earth would I have thought that, not only did I have some sort of appearance altering charm on me, but that the charm I was removing would change my entire physique? It was fortunate that Hermione was there, unless you like the idea of the horrible Harry Potter, Gryffindor's Golden Boy, wandering through the halls with your face. Maybe if I was ever told the truth about my life I'd be better equipped to live it." The bitterness was tangible in his voice. "And don't worry, Professor," he added condescendingly. "I told no one else, although Madam Pomfrey figured it out. Something about my physical appearance being too static for a teenager."

Harry stared at the floor, defeated. "I'm sorry to have spilled your shameful secret, Snape, but believe me when I say that I expect nothing from you but ridicule and hatred." Another short, bitter laugh. "Although, if my life is any indication, that is all family is good for." No sooner had the words left his mouth than he shuddered, pulling into himself. "The Dursleys," he whispered. "More blood on my hands. I suppose that is something we have in common, isn't it." Harry's voice was emotionless, and he would not meet Snape's eyes.

With a sigh, Snape lowered himself to the ground, leaning against the wall. "If you did indeed have blood on your hands, it would be something we shared," he said carefully. "But a murder committed by Voldemort is not your fault."

There was a long pause. Harry shifted a little, as if steeling himself for something. Finally, he spoke. "Sir? How long have you known?"

Snape snorted. "About 20 minutes."

Harry's head snapped up. "Really? How did you find out?"

Snape stood up, then bent down, offering a hand to Harry. "I received a letter from your mother. Incidentally, I'd guess that Albus knows, too."

A grin flitted across Harry's face. "The surprise would be if he didn't." His face shuttered. "I believe Voldemort saw through my concealment charm at the Ministry last year. It is probably my fault he discovered you."

Snape hauled Harry to his feet. "It is actually quite liberating to know I will never have to go back." He hesitated. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you saw in the Pensieve?"

Harry's expression transformed itself into one of determination, and he concentrated for a second. "Break into my mind," he commanded softly.

Raising an eyebrow, Severus pointed his wand at Harry. "_Legilimens!_" The images came roaring at him: Harry running frantically from a group of boys before suddenly finding himself on the roof of his school; Harry surrounded by the same group, pointing and laughing; Harry, shaking, brandishing his wand at his uncle, snapping, "She deserved what she got! She insulted my mum!" while a rapidly inflating woman floated in the background; Harry curled inside a cupboard, cradling an injured wrist while his aunt shrieked at him through the door. He broke the spell, looking at Harry's bowed head.

"They would have treated me the same, you know, if I had not been me." On the surface, the statement made no sense but Severus understood, all the same. He lifted his head, locking with Snape's black eyes. "No matter what my parentage, I am not my father," he said vehemently. "You cannot blame me for James Potter's mistakes, no one can blame me for _your_ mistakes." Breaking eye contact, he muttered, "No one can be blamed for my mistakes."

Snape studied Harry. "You are considerably less ignorant than I had thought."

Harry's lips twitched. "Thank you, sir, that's very kind--"

Snape stared as Harry fell to his knees, clutching his scar with both hands. Curling into the fetal position, Harry lay silent, trembling. "S-S-Snape," he groaned effortfully. "Listen... Remember... Finnegan... Creevey... tomorrow night... tonight..." Dread tinged Harry's voice as his body shuddered in terror. "No, not him.. God, no... how could he... just a boy... just..." A low, keening moan issued from his mouth as his body twisted and jerked. Blood dripped from his mouth where he'd bit through his tongue in an effort to hold in screams of pain.

Snape knelt next to Harry in terror. He recognized the Cruciatus Curse. Laying a hand on Harry's forehead, Snape snapped urgently, "Harry! Push him out, Harry, force him out of your mind, close it off!" He continued to kneel there, wishing he could fight this for him, until Harry's moans faded and his body relaxed and lay still. Opening his eyes, he made to sit up but Snape pushed him back firmly. "You need to rest."

Harry shook his head frantically, emitting a small burble of blood instead of speech. Snape's eyes widened in realization and he turned Harry onto his side, patting his back as he spat out the blood. As he finished, Harry leaned back against Severus's chest in exhaustion. Snape stiffened and Harry, embarrassed, began to pull away before Severus leaned him back firmly. "Shh, relax, Harry," he whispered, rocking the boy slightly.

Harry pushed him away, harder, although still terribly weak. "Need to tell Dumbledore," he moaned urgently. He began struggling to get to his feet, although his trembling limbs simply refused to support him. After watching a particularly painful attempt where Harry actually gained his footing, only to collapse back to the floor, his head hitting the stone with a resounding _crack_, Snape lost his patience.

"Idiot boy!" he snapped impatiently, flicking his wand and levitating the teen to bed. "If you will promise to cease your infernal flailing about I will go fetch the Headmaster. If I don't find you in this bed when I return I'm going to bind you to it."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he snorted. "I'd like to see you try," he breathed.

Snape stared incredulously. "I'm going to pretend that was the pain talking, but I warn you... don't tempt me, Potter."

"I'm not a Potter."

"Whoever the hell you are."

"Ah, that is the question, isn't it." The boy sighed and lay still. Snape paused; he seemed to have won that round but he wasn't sure how. Shrugging dismissively, he left to find Dumbledore.

**_A/N: _**_The letter was hell to write. How do you write something from someone equal parts furious, hurt, betrayed, and hopeful? _

**_Responses to Reviews:_**

**_Earendil'sgirl: _**_Thanks! Hope this satisfies!_

**_Lady Lestrange: _**_I'm glad you liked it, I hope you like this one as well! I believe this is a little longer, but this is about as long as I like my chapters to get. It's easier to update 3-4000 words at a time than more. And don't worry, I have no intentions of abandoning this; I have a rough idea of where I want to go, which is usually the hardest part for me, so all should be well!_

**_Shaddow:_**_ Sorry for Snape? If you felt that way after last chapter it must be worse now. Anyway, I'm glad you still liked it!_

**_Japanese Cowboy:_**_ Here's a nice lengthy Snape monologue, hope it's good!_


	3. Try To Be

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter One._

**_A/N:_**_ Thanks for all the reviews. Responses at the end of the chapter. --Piton_

**Chapter 3 - Try to Be**

Whenever he thought back to that night, the first thing Severus remembered was always how loud the party was...

_Narcissa Black had atrocious taste in music, and she had stayed true to type when choosing the entertainment for her graduation party. The bass throbbed through his skull, seeming to blast a personal message, just for him: "Why are you here? Why are you here?"_

_"Why _am_ I here?" Severus asked himself glumly. He wasn't sure what exactly he had been expecting from this party--had he thought upon leaving Hogwarts he would miraculously discover his misplaced social graces? Even if he had, everyone here knew him well enough to keep their distance, no matter his mood. He downed the last of his firewhiskey, and the world began to recede to a dull hum. "If I'm going to get through this, I need more liquor," he mumbled._

_"What?" Lucius Malfoy shouted, leaning close enough for Severus to realize _he_ was the sober one of the duo. Lucius never could hold his drink. Severus leaned back stiffly._

_"I was wondering if you were ready to go ask Narcissa to dance so that I might leave you to her charms instead of holding your hand all night."_

_Lucius laughed drunkenly. "Have patience, my friend," he slurred. "Why don't you find yourself a pretty little friend to occupy your time? Perhaps a good lay would help remove that wand from your arse."_

_Severus scowled. "I'm getting more to drink." Without waiting for a reply, Severus stalked over to the bar. He refilled his drink then turned to face the party, sneering at anyone foolish enough to meet his gaze. At least standing here with a drink in his hand he looked more like any other wallflower, and less like a great bat lurking in the shadows. He gulped his whiskey and began a countdown until he could leave._

_"Severus? I didn't know you were coming!"_

_The voice came from behind him, and he jumped, spilling the contents of his glass down the front of his robes. Cursing under his breath, he pulled his wand and uttered a cleaning charm as he turned to face the speaker. His face broke into a genuine smile. "Lily! You're at a Slytherin graduation party and you're surprised to see _me_ here?" The smile turned mocking. "Did little Black's mummy force him to attend?"_

_Her hair glinted gold in the light, and she rolled her eyes as she responded. "Got it in one! And, of course, wherever Sirius goes, there follow his merry men."_

_He nodded. "Of course. That doesn't, however, explain _your_ appearance at this little fete. Your friends, I am sure, are off unleashing havoc upon those too drunk to retaliate, and knowing them they have informed you that such business is no place for a woman." He had the feeling his sardonic speech was spoiled by the slur that was starting to make itself known._

_"Correct again!" she laughed, raising her glass in a silent toast. "James begs me to come, and when I graciously agree he abandons me." She staggered slightly, and Severus's brow furrowed as he realized she had drank considerably more than he had estimated. One does not often see the Head Girl utterly pissed... in both figurative senses of the word._

_She stepped closer, laying her hand on his arm, big green eyes gazing up at him through her dark lashes. "I suppose we'll just have to amuse each other, then," she breathed, running her other hand up and down his chest._

_Severus swallowed. There was a fuzzy little voice in his head screeching at him, telling him to just walk away, but a louder voice was commenting on how good she smelled, and pointing out that if James was careless enough to leave her here, that was his problem. The fuzzy voice made one last effort. _'She's your friend! Keep this up, and she won't be tomorrow.'

_But Severus firmly quashed any second thoughts, aided by yet more alcohol. _'Bugger off,'_ he snarled to himself. _'I know what I'm doing.'__

His biggest regret was that he remembered so little of that night. He figured, if he was going to do something that outrageously idiotic, he should at least get to recall just what exactly he did. He remembered her lips on his... leaving the party... flooing to her brand-new flat in London. He remembered words of love whispered at the height of passion, and slinking away in the middle of the night, mortified that he could have taken advantage of one of his few friends so callously.

He of course remembered that day, several weeks later, when they had met again

_He was hurrying through Gringotts, hoping to get his money and run his errands before his lunch hour ended. As he turned away from the counter, he slammed into the person who was next in line. She was in an equal hurry, and the impact of the collision would have knocked her off her feet were it not for his stabilizing grip. His hands tightened spasmodically on her arms before pushing her away as he realized who exactly he was holding._

_"Severus..." she started uncertainly._

_"Not here," he interrupted brusquely. "I'll meet you outside; would you like to join me for lunch?"_

_She nodded dumbly, moving toward the impatient goblin._

_The silence was complete from the moment they set off from the bank until they gave their orders at the diner. Without their menus to hide behind, they studied each other uneasily. She was the first to speak._

_"I'm sorry about that night, Severus, I was upset and it was wrong of me to use you." She looked at him shyly, whispering, "I didn't want this to happen that way."_

_His jaw tightened. "I believe we both used each other to a certain degree, so let's just drop this unsavory topic."_

_Her green gaze was desperate, beseeching him to listen. "Was that all it was to you?" she whispered. "Just some drunken mistake?"_

_He scowled at her. "What do you want me to say? The sex was good." She flushed. "Would you like me to tell you how I pine for you, my lonely days are meaningless without you in them, after that night I lost the _sunshine_ in my life?" The sarcasm and bitterness in his tone could melt steel. "Go back to Potter, Evans, he's much more your type." _

_He made as if to storm off, and she grasped his left arm angrily. "You could at least do me the courtesy of letting me finish before subjecting me to that self-pitying display." His eyes darkened, and the encounter would have turned even more unpleasant except--_

It_ happened._

_The Dark Lord was calling him, and she saw the flash of pain in his eyes and felt the heat of the Mark through his robes. Her eyes narrowed in disgust. "I see," she commented coolly, fairly throwing his arm onto the table. She got up, gathering her things together. "Well, it appears we both have things to do. I don't imagine we'll be seeing each other again soon, Severus, but for the next unfortunate woman, let me say this: _

_"If you were ashamed of me or what happened you should have just come out and said it."_

-------

Snape shook himself out of his memories as he entered the hospital wing, spotting Harry asleep on his bed in the corner. For a moment he was frozen at the entrance, shocked anew at the incredible resemblance they shared. _'We'll need to talk about that charm at some point,'_ he thought distantly. He noticed Poppy was scurrying about, tidying her domain, and glided up to her. "How is he doing?" he asked quietly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Harry's frantic voice. The boy had pushed himself into a sitting position and was groping for his glasses. "Professor! Professor, did you tell Dumbledore? Are the Creeveys and the Finnegans okay? I can't believe no one woke me. Will I be able to see--"

Snape held up a hand, and Harry reluctantly fell silent. "The Creeveys are fine, Harry," he said cautiously, "However, we did not reach the Finnegans in time."

The boyish face fell. "They're all dead?" he asked dully.

Snape nodded slowly. "Albus was concerned by your vision," he commented, changing the subject. "He believes, and Poppy agrees, that you must either Occlude your mind or take a sleeping draught at least until you are healed. If you continue to have fits every night, you will be stuck in the hospital wing indefinitely."

Harry scowled. "I'm fine," he said dismissively. He studied the older man. "And what do _you_ think, Professor?"

Snape's brow furrowed. "I think you need to understand that you cannot save the world."

The boy's head snapped back as if the man had hit him. "Do I, sir? I thought that was what I was born for. What else do I have?" Closing his eyes, he went limp against the pillows. "I thought you, of all people, would understand," he muttered.

"_That_ is different!" he snapped.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Sir? Where will I go once I am allowed to leave the hospital wing? Will I be able to visit the Weasleys?"

Wrinkling his distinctive nose, Snape commented, "Albus does not believe it safe for you to leave Hogwarts at this time. Perhaps later in the summer you will be permitted to visit your... _friends_." He spat out the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. He continued, "As I said, you will be staying in Hogwarts, and you will be under my care."

"I see." Harry studied his sheet intently, running his fingers over the hem. "You know, sir, just because you... learned about me doesn't mean... I mean, I'm sorry you're stuck with me now." The sheet crumpled in his tight grip.

Severus sighed. "Sorry to rain on your pity parade, but I actually _requested_ this."

Harry stopped contemplating his bedding and lifted his bewildered eyes to Snape. "Sir?"

The professor collapsed into a chair, regarding his new-found son intently. "Look, Po--_Harry_, I still don't like you. I think you're arrogant and reckless, and the way the rest of the faculty treats you like some bizarre combination of child warrior and delicate flower is damn annoying. I do not, however, _dislike_ you either, which is an improvement, and I would like the chance to get to know you." His hair obscured his face as he stared at the ground. "I think I owe your mother that much."

Harry humphed. "I don't want you to be stuck with me out of some bizarre sense of _guilt_!" he exclaimed in exasperation. A little offended, he added fatalistically, "It probably won't matter for very long, anyway." His eyes brightened with a guilty hope as he asked, "Sir? When I was born, had you ever defied Voldemort?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "You were born... 31 July, 1981, right?" Not waiting for a reply, he continued thoughtfully, "Well, I was a spy at that time, so I suppose you could call that defiance."

Harry snorted. "Well, I sure wouldn't call it loyalty!" He paused. "Actually, I was asking about defiance in the _face _of Voldemort, not behind his back, so to speak."

He was ignored. "If you're looking for storybook heroism, you should ask Dumbledore... I couldn't do anything to jeopardize my position in the circle, but I suppose each meeting was an act of defiance in itself." His gaze clearly said, _"Does this have a point?"_

Harry swallowed. "Can you remember, at the time of my birth, how many meetings you had attended since changing sides?"

He shrugged. "Well, I had changed sides fairly recently... I'd guess about three," he hazarded.

Harry's face fell. "Of course it was three! How could it be anything other than three?" He ran his hands through his hair. "If it couldn't be Neville... I wish Voldemort had gotten his facts straight and killed me when he had the chance. Or should I say chances? For the terror of the wizarding world, he has atrocious luck."

"What in Merlin's name are you rambling on about, boy? Getting tired of the fame and adulation that comes with being 'The Boy-Who-Lived'?"

"Yeah, that's it, tell me about my cushy life as everyone's hero. Tell how fun it is to grow up without parents, to find out I'm famous for some weird combination of circumstance, my mother's love, and Voldemort being stupid, but certainly nothing that has anything to do with _me_, or my actions. Tell me how great it is when the papers are telling everyone you're insane, and your godfather dies because of your _saving people thing_, and how utterly fabulous it is to know that, in the end, everything really does rest on your shoulders. And what qualifies you for the job? A scar, luck, _your heart_, and the knowledge that everyone close to you will die because of you. And you face death so often you're practically on first-name basis with the Grim Reaper, and no one can protect you from _that_, but they can withhold all useful or important information, because you're too _young_ to know! So, there you go," Harry cried sarcastically, "I give you Harry Potter. Not too bright, not too skilled, not too informed, but famous and our only hope. God help all the _spares_ that get too close, though." By the end of his tirade, he was shouting. As soon as he finished speaking, he wavered where he sat and abruptly keeled over. Severus stared at the slumped form of his son.

_'Well. That was certainly... incoherent._ He gently picked up the boy and arranged him in a more comfortable position. "Sleep well," he murmured, "Because when you wake up you have some explaining to do."

Intending on finding Dumbledore, he was halfway across the room when he felt the _strangest_ sensation, a cross between painful and itchy, centered on his forehead. He paused, rubbing the area, but the feeling had faded as quickly as it came. Had he glanced back at that moment, he would have seen Harry rubbing his scar, grimacing in quiet pain.

**_A/N: _**_Ah, the vague glimmering of a plot emerges. This chapter was almost literally painful to write. Severus and Harry weren't speaking, and they did not appreciate my prodding. I've rewritten it a few times, given up, and am unleashing it on you people so I can move on! The next chapter is giving me much less grief. --Piton_

**_Responses to Reviews:_******

**LushBaby, hermione21, Wytil, Starbuckkitty, sabby, spacecatdet, Malfoy11717, Potter Reader, MiruSedna, SlythCat19: **Thanks! I'm glad you all like it so far. I hope this chapter isn't _too_ disappointing.

**snarkyroxy: **I'm glad you liked it. I hope you like it still, even though I'm kind of smashing your delusions. In this story, Lily and Severus were friends, and I think Lily was in love with him, but he, as guys tend to be, was totally clueless. He did care about her a lot as a friend, though, which becomes clearer later.

**duj: **Harry's thoughts relating to Snape are kind of where the AU aspect of this fic comes into play. All _events_ in canon will occur, but the emotions and/or reasoning behind them may be a bit skewed. As for Sirius's death, I see Harry really hurting about this. He needs a reason for why it happened, and he's kind of blaming everyone and no one, but most of all he blames himself. Don't know if that makes a whole lot of sense, but he's not supposed to be overly rational at the moment. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**Voydag: **Glad I surprised you! Yeah, Hermione's going to be very important to this story. Personally, I can't wait until she shows up, but remember, there's always owl post. ;)

**Alleya:** That is, to me, the most interesting part of Severitus stories. I mean, not only would this adjustment be hard for anyone, but these are two very dysfunctional people! I hope this stays interesting!

**Lady Lestrange:** That's partially where this idea came from, honestly, I was watching Friends, and Ross and Rachel's baby made me think. It may lack some of the edginess of the other plotlines, but it's still worth a try! I'm glad you like it so far, although don't judge it by this chapter!

**athenakitty:** Some questions answered, some not, just wait and all will be revealed ;)

**ShadowedHand:** I'm so glad you liked it! Honestly, when I started writing it I intended for Harry to be as in the dark as Severus, but he just jumped out and took over that scene, thankfully. If only he could've helped out a little on _this_ chapter...! ;)

**wpd147:** Good point about legal names, but I was referring more to Harry's sense of identity. Yes, his name is still Potter, but everything he knew about his parents was a lie, his birth father has always treated him like dirt, not to mention he's a teenager... that would be enough to make anyone wonder _who_ they really are. This is essentially the same reason the _Point me_ spell would not work for "Harry Potter."

**Makalani Astral: **Yes, Dumbledore and Harry will be having words soon. I'm glad you like it so far!


	4. And Miles To Go Before I Sleep

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter One._

**_A/N:_**_ This chapter gets its name from the poem "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening", by Robert Frost. Thanks for all the great reviews! They keep me motivated. Responses at the end of the chapter. --Piton_

**Chapter 4 - And Miles To Go Before I Sleep**

Albus Dumbledore was intently focused on paperwork--one of the more banal realities of his post--when his office door blasted open. He continued to write, blissfully scrawling away on the parchment in front of him, paying no heed to the very indignant wizard that was now pacing furiously on the opposite side of his desk. Finally, his visitor could take it no longer.

"Damn it all, Albus, would you lay _aside_ those bloody useless papers and stop pretending you haven't noticed my presence?" Snape exploded, striding over to the large desk and slamming his hands onto the shiny surface.

Albus calmly set down his quill and turned innocent blue eyes on his potions master. "Good afternoon, Severus, what a pleasure it is to see you. Would you like a lemon drop?"

Snape only barely managed to refrain from informing the Headmaster just what he could do with his lemon drops. Dragging in a huge lungful of air, he deliberately calmed himself before responding, "No _thank you_, Albus." He returned to his pacing. "I went back up to see Harry just now," he commented. "He had some very interesting things to say."

Needlessly shifting the parchment in front of him, Albus commented idly, "I always told you if you got to know the boy you would find him tolerable."

Snape rolled his eyes, otherwise ignoring the statement. "He did not take the news about the Finnegans very well." He pinned the older wizard with an intense glare. "He seems to be under the impression that he is to be, that he _must_ be, the salvation of the wizarding world. At first I thought it was simply arrogance, but he has no confidence in his abilities. He's terrified of failure, but never even _thinks_ that there are adults around to help him." His eyes bored into the other man. "In fact, he's convinced that the adults placed here _for_ his protection are in fact _under_ his protection. Where on _earth_ could he have gotten any ideas like that, I wonder?"

Sighing heavily, Albus rose from his chair and quickly arranged for them to have tea. It wasn't until everything had arrived and the cups had been filled that he turned to Snape, merely inquiring, "Tea, Severus?"

Through gritted teeth, he managed to eke out the words, "Yes, please." Albus spent an inordinate amount of time fussing with the service, and finally the younger man cleared his throat impatiently. Albus studied the contents of his cup.

"Do you remember why exactly Voldemort had targeted the Potters?" he asked softly.

Severus blinked. "I wasn't aware there was a particular _reason_; I assumed they had been selected because of their success in fighting him and his followers." His brow furrowed as he added thoughtfully, "He _was_ peculiarly eager, almost _obsessed_ with their demise, really." His expression clearly said, _'Will you be coming to a _point_ anytime in the near future?'_

The Headmaster nodded solemnly. "There was a prophecy; the same one, in fact, that Voldemort was so intent to possess last year."

"I knew that had something to do with Potter," Snape muttered under his breath. Accusingly, he said, "You told me it was lost, smashed, that no one knew it."

Meeting his eyes, Albus said earnestly, "I couldn't risk giving you this information while you were working as a spy, Severus."

"That still leaves a twelve-year gap in which you had no reason to leave me in the dark, _Albus_," he heatedly argued.

Albus frowned sternly. "We both knew he would return. You know I couldn't risk it."

Feeling beaten, Severus slumped in his seat. "Well, I am a spy no more, sir, so now do you deem it prudent for me to know what exactly this prophecy contains?"

Fetching his pensieve, the old wizard extracted the relevant memory and set it to playing. Silence rang through the room as Sybill Trelawney's voice faded away. After a long pause, Snape stirred. "When did you tell the boy?"

"After the... events at the end of last year," Albus answered simply.

"You waited that long?" he asked incredulously.

"I rather imagined you would have told me not to tell him at all," the Headmaster retorted.

"I've always said the boy was a reckless, arrogant fool, but that's all the more reason he should have been informed! Perhaps the knowledge of the task that awaits him would have encouraged him to exercise more caution, to work harder at his schoolwork! You cannot declare a child capable of fighting basilisks, dementors, and the Ministry and then _not_ trust him to know about _his_ fate!" All of Harry's complaints about not receiving any information began to make disturbing sense. Severus jumped out of his chair, pacing, needing the movement to distract him from the confusion in his mind. Albus Dumbledore didn't make mistakes like this, and he trusted _everyone_, so what, precisely, was he missing here?

"I didn't want to place that on his shoulders," Dumbledore said almost meekly.

"You didn't mind placing the responsibility of facing down Quirrell, or a werewolf, or ensuring Sirius Black's escape on his shoulders--oh, don't give me that shocked look, I know what happened." He kept moving, his hair shielding his face as he averted the other wizard's gaze. He let out a scornful groan as everything became clear. "You wanted to _condition_ him to play the hero before he knew. You wanted to make sure that child was bloody well convinced that it's his duty to run to the rescue every time there's danger so that in this situation, when the stakes were highest, he'd run out like some little trained monkey, possibly to _die._" Severus stood stock-still as he stared at his mentor. "You're playing him like a piano. You are _that_ determined there will be no surprises."

"I was trying to _protect_ him," Albus said miserably.

Severus closed his eyes. "No, Albus. I don't think you were," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He turned toward the door.

"Severus! Wait!" Albus exclaimed, springing out of his chair and laying a hand on his arm. The other man stiffened, but didn't pull away. "I was _trying_..." he murmured.

His black eyes were expressionless as he shook off the offending limb. "No, Albus, I don't think you were," he repeated gently. "Not in this." Without another word, he strode out of the office.

Albus moved wearily to his desk, sitting and placing a hand over his eyes. A moment later, he grasped another silver gadget that had survived Harry's wrath. The object appeared to be little more than a mirror, until the man angled it to face him and commanded, "_Severus Snape!_" His reflection blurred, morphing into an image of the potions master heading for the hospital wing. Smiling slightly, he set the looking glass to the side, whispering, "I can't change the past, Harry, but I can try to improve the future."

----------

Feeling utterly exhausted, and unsure of the reason, Harry forced his eyes to open, squinting at the bright light of the setting sun reflected off the dead white walls. Putting on his glasses, he couldn't help giving a small start as he noticed the dark figure in the corner. "Professor!" he exclaimed, trying to cover his weakness with words. "I didn't see you there. How long have I been sleeping?"

"Only a few hours," the man answered quietly, moving to stand by his bed. His eyes had a funny expression in them as he gazed down at Harry, one he couldn't understand. The older man shifted his weight before stating matter-of-factly, "I visited the Headmaster while you were sleeping." At Harry's blank stare he elaborated. "He told me about the prophecy."

"Ah," Harry said, staring at his hands. There was an uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry," he finally muttered, laying down and turning onto his side, facing away from the professor.

Snape frowned. "May I ask what exactly you are apologizing for?" he queried dryly.

Harry rolled onto his back. "The prophecy, or course," he said in surprise. "I don't imagine it made your day to realize that _your_ fate depends on _my_ actions." He was refusing to meet the man's eyes, and therefore missed the expression of complete astonishment that flitted across the angular features.

Reaching down, he gently seized Harry's chin and forced him to look him in the eye. After a second of study, he dropped his hand as if he had been burned. "You're serious," he said incredulously.

Harry gave him a look usually reserved for slow four-year-olds. "Yes, I'm serious," he bit out. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I just fail to understand how even _you_ can think a prophecy made before you were even born is your fault."

The boy scowled. "Well, I was born, wasn't I?" he commented bitterly.

Snape pulled up a chair. "Merlin, boy! You cannot possible be that simple-minded!" he remarked.

Harry pulled away. "Yes, I can!" he roared.

Snape snorted. Harry looked up. That had almost sounded like... laughter. "You blaming yourself for having the gall to be born is like Miss Granger believing having Muggle parents make her less of a witch." Seeing Harry's eyes darken dangerously, he said icily, "Don't be ridiculous, boy, _I_ don't feel that way. No one in their right mind would think that way, which was the point of my little allegory."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Oh..." he said softly. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not an accurate comparison, sir," he commented.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his hair. "The fact that Hermione is a Muggleborn... People won't die because of that!" Seeing the look his teacher sent him, he muttered, "Okay, that might not always be true. But when Muggleborns are hurt, it's not _their fault_."

Snape studied him for a long moment. "You do realize your argument makes not the slightest drop of sense," he commented.

"A common state for me to find myself in, according to you," Harry returned.

By some tacit agreement, they changed the subject. "Did you have any more visions?" the professor inquired.

Harry shook his head, puffing out his cheeks in a disappointed sigh. "Just normal old nightmares," he complained. Seeing the older man draw breath to speak, he added, "Don't even start with Dreamless Sleep again! I'll be fine."

As soon as Harry stopped speaking, Snape cleared his throat dramatically and sneered, "As I was _trying_ to say, if you can go this night without a vision, Madam Pomfrey will release you from the hospital wing in the morning. I rather thought that would be incentive enough for you to want the potion for this one night, at least. Once you leave this room, I promise, you can dream and scream to your heart's content."

Feeling slightly beleaguered, Harry yelled, "Fine, I'll take the bloody potion, will everyone just leave me alone, then?"

Snape held his gaze for an instant longer before looking away, moving to Madam Pomfrey's stores to locate the correct potion. Harry frowned; that moment before he'd turned away, the professor had looked almost _hurt_. _'Sure, Snape is feeling rejected by Harry Potter,'_ he thought sarcastically. _'Maybe I do need to get some normal sleep.'_ Out loud, he announced, "I need to use the loo." Ignoring the other man's sardonic gaze, he headed into the washroom. Thankfully, by the time he returned to his bed, he had the room to himself again. Smiling grimly, Harry grabbed the potion on his bedside table, hurried back to the washroom, and poured it down the sink, carefully running the water to rinse away any trace of his deception. Only then did he climb into bed.

----------

It was either very late that night, or extremely early the next morning, when Snape abruptly sat straight up in bed, heart pounding. His forehead tingled, his hands were clammy, and he felt an overwhelming sense of fear without any idea of the cause. Deciding he must have had some sort of dream, he threw on a robe and left to restlessly wander the corridors. It took about five minutes for him to realize that his wanderings weren't as random as he had believed; he had, in fact been heading directly for the hospital wing.

He scowled. _'Was the boy not clear enough this afternoon, Severus?'_ he berated himself. _'The last thing he wants or needs is to wake up in the middle of the night and find _you_ there.'_ No matter what he told himself, he was unable to keep himself from checking in on the boy. He was almost there anyway.

He was reaching out to push open the door to the wing when he first heard the screams. They were hoarse and ragged, as if the screamer had worn out his vocal cords. Throwing open the door, Snape groaned as he caught sight of Harry flailing at the foot of the bed. Gliding quickly to the boy's bed, he grabbed Harry's shoulder and gave a gentle shake. "Harry! Wake up. Harry..."

At his touch the child relaxed slightly, allowing Snape to sit down beside him and pull him to his chest, forcing Harry to lie still. He fought Snape's hold, crying desperately as he struggled to break free. Snape moved one hand to the boy's head, tucking it under his chin as he fought to calm him. As the professor moved, his hand fell over the famous scar, and he couldn't prevent a gasp from escaping as his vision tunneled in and he fell, senseless, against the wall, his limp arms still encircling his son.

----------

_Severus shook his head in confusion as he found himself standing in the middle of the street in a Muggle town. He jumped, drawing his wand, as he heard a shout from the house to his right. As he crept up to the door, he could hear at least two voices; a female screaming and a male cursing her. He hoped there was no one else in the house. As he reached for the doorknob, he felt a small hand stop him. "Your wand won't work here," he heard, "and you can't even touch anything."_

_Severus whirled around to face Harry Potter, looking considerably younger than his sixteen years as he stood there in his oversized hospital robe, tears running down his cheeks as he surveyed the desolate landscape. The former spy realized with a start that this house was not the only one under attack--so intent had he been on finding the source of those screams that he had tuned out the other cries and sobs from the neighboring houses, had ignored the dark marks further down the way._

_"Thank you," Harry said softly, and Severus glanced at him blankly. "I don't know how you pulled me away from Voldemort, but I appreciate it." He was about to tell the boy to stop his incessant prattling, because only Merlin what he was speaking about, when the scenery suddenly blurred and he found himself standing beside the Dark Lord, watching impotently as he encouraged his minions to torture a child while the mother hysterically begged for mercy. He felt a tug on his wrist and Harry pulled him into the corner. "It's better not to watch," the boy said wisely._

_They both stiffened as they heard Voldemort's high voice increase in volume. "What is the difficulty, Avery, this is just a small child!" Severus glanced around in time to see his former master shove the man who must be Avery to the floor, before turning his own wand on the baby. _"Crucio,"_ he said firmly, and Harry, Severus, and the child collapsed in pain._

_He could feel Harry's hand still clutching his, squeezing his hand so tightly he felt bones grind together. Through the course of the curse he had remained silent, as was his wont, feeling a strange, strong protectiveness rising in him at the sound of Harry's screams. Finally, the curse eased, and he crawled over to the boy, gathering the shaking body into his arms. "I'm sorry, professor," he choked out. "I don't know how you got stuck here with me."_

_Severus shook his head. "It certainly wasn't through any action of yours," he said soothingly. _

_"But you got hurt, and I'm still glad you're here, and that makes me a terrible person," Harry whispered._

_"Are you glad I'm here because you think I was hurt?" Severus asked calmly._

_"No!" the boy exclaimed, staring up at him with glazed green eyes. "It's just nice... not to be all alone, for once," he said wistfully._

_Before Severus could reply, the curse started again, and he tightened his hold on the boy, wishing he could protect him from the horror around them, realizing this particular boy had surely seen worse. He moved so his back was between Harry and the macabre scene behind them. As they gained another respite, Harry buried his face in the professor's robes, trying to hide the tears running down his face. "Sir?" he asked quietly. "How do you keep yourself from screaming?"_

_Severus frowned. "I... learned to be silent," he said flatly. "Don't be ashamed to scream, or cry, Harry," he added. "It's how you know you are still human."_

_Harry looked up at him. "You're still human sir," he firmly said. "If you weren't you wouldn't be helping me."_

_That seemed to be the cue for the next curse, then another, everything blurring together in a haze of pain and tears until the world went black._

**_A/N:_**_ Much will be explained in the next chapter, have no fear! Please review and let me know what you think--you don't know how much it helps! --Piton_

**_Responses to Reviews:_**

**Ravensblack, leggylover03, Lady Lily3, white-blaze-dragon, Zachiliam, GoddessMoonLady, Katrina Tonak: **Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm so glad you like it so far!

**SlythCat19:** Hope this makes the forehead thing a _little_ clearer. It will be explained much more in the next chapter. That chapter was a _bit_ on the short side for me, but I'm usually between 2500-3500 words a chappie, so it won't usually be much longer. It takes too much time to upload then! I'm glad you still liked the chapter!

**Makalani Astral, bluesparkle123:** I'm glad you liked Harry's little rant! I had fun writing that part, and just imagining the look on Sevvie's face--you can be sure he's not happy when someone's talking about something _he_ doesn't know about! I'm glad you liked the rest of the chapter, too!

**Pearl of the Moon: **Don't cry! Here you go!

**Alleya:** So, yeah, Severus has heard the prophecy now. I doubt Albus has heard the last from him on that, though... I'm glad this interests you!

**snarkyroxy:** I'm always glad to help strengthen someone's delusions! ;) Glad you liked the chapter.


	5. Fathers and Sons

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter One._

**_A/N:_**_ Some questions are answered, some are not, but all will be eventually. I've gotten a couple questions about where I came up with my name. Lyn is the name of my niece, and Piton is Severus's last name in the Italian HP translations. Fifteen points to Molly Morrison's House of choice for guessing! Thanks for all the reviews, guys! Responses at the end of the chapter. --Piton_

**Chapter 5 - Fathers and Sons**

Severus opened his eyes blearily, feeling horribly disoriented. As the remembrance of the previous night surfaced in his mind, he shot into an upright position. A vague movement at his chest made him glance down to find Harry curled up on his lap, sleeping much more calmly than when Severus had first found him. Easing the child onto the bed, he stood and tucked the boy in. Hopefully, he'd be able to get a few hours of peaceful sleep, at least. It wasn't until he was straightening from his task that he realized he was not the only conscious person in the room. He sighed, meeting Albus Dumbledore's steady, bright-eyed gaze.

"I suppose you already know exactly what happened here," he commented sourly.

Dumbledore studied him over the tops of his spectacles. "From what I arrived in time to see, Mr. Potter and yourself have experienced another of his visions." He hesitated, then plunged on. "I am sure we both know what your answer will be, but allow an old man the absurdity of concern and tell me: how are you feeling?"

Severus gritted his teeth. "I am _fine_!" he snapped. "Now do you think you are capable of ceasing the mother hen routine long enough to tell me just what is going on?"

Seeming utterly unfazed by this little tirade, Albus stood and made his way over to the storage cabinets at the front of the hospital wing. Rifling through the contents, he located a bottle of post-Cruciatus potion and returned to where Severus stood by Harry's bed. Thrusting the small vial into the man's hand, he murmured, "Once you have swallowed this we will talk."

Scowling ferociously, Severus downed the draught. "All right, you've gotten your way once again," he sneered, drifting into a nearby chair. He couldn't completely stifle a sigh of relief as the potion took effect, soothing his sore body.

Albus smiled softly at the sight, but wisely refrained from commenting. Rather, he sat down beside the potions master, and asked quietly, "I believe you have some Italian blood, do you not, Severus?"

The black eyes lost some of their chill as he answered blankly, "My mother was Italian, yes, but what does that..." His face cleared, a variety of emotions chasing one another until settling on befuddlement. "You aren't referring to _Maglia_, are you? Isn't that just some sort of myth?"

Albus shook his head. "Did you not listen during History of Magic?" he gently chided. "_Maglia_ was what saved Principe Guido in 1322 when the French tried to assassinate him. _Maglia_ was why Re Rudolfo disowned his eldest son in 1501." He patted Severus's arm. "_Maglia_ was what woke you tonight, what brought you here." He leaned back in his chair. "Has Harry sensed it, too?"

"You mean, other than chatting with me while we watched Voldemort kill people?" Severus snarled. Suddenly very tired, he ran a hand over his eyes. "You would have to ask him. But he has to have, right? Doesn't the link work both ways?"

Raising an eyebrow in imitation of the man beside him, Albus commented, "You really paid no attention to Professor Binns, did you?" Upon seeing the rapidly darkening expression on the younger man's face, he hastily began to explain. "_Maglia_, as you know, is an Italian phenomenon that occurred quite frequently until several centuries ago. The most famous cases were those involving royalty, but it has been documented in all classes of Italian culture. It only ever occurs between father and son, and only when there is, at the very least, trust between the parties, a mutual respect, and no desire to harm the other. The loss of this bond is what alerted many men to plots by a son to gain inheritance or a title. Conversely, the presence of the bond allows either man to know if the other is in danger, and enables you to find each other." That said, Albus gave Severus a penetrating look. "Do you see what I am saying? The bond is not always reciprocated. Do you feel enough trust in Harry to enact his end of the _Maglia_?"

Ignoring the question and pushing aside his irritation at being lectured to like some slow fourth-year, Severus changed the subject. "I thought _Maglia_ conveyed emotions and... I don't know... some sort of locating device, not the ability to experience each other's dreams!"

Albus nodded. "Ordinarily, that would be true. What you and Harry experienced last night, however, was not an ordinary dream." He added obliquely, "The pair of you are linked through more than just blood."

Severus thought back to the previous night. "Just before I... fell into the vision, I touched Harry's scar..." His eyes were drawn to his left arm. "We're linked through _Voldemort_?" His quiet tone could not temper his incredulity. "This doesn't mean he's linked to all the other Death Eaters too, does it?"

Shaking his head, Albus elucidated, "You would have to ask Harry if he can sense the Dark Mark at all, but your respective marks from Tom Riddle only served to channel the connection you already share." His eyes sparkled. "You do realize it will most likely grow," he added conversationally.

Severus groaned. "Somehow, I can't imagine Harry being very excited when he finds out he will have Lord Voldemort, _and_ his greasy git of a Potions professor rattling around in his mind."

"I'd rather have you sensing my emotions than picking through my memories," Harry mumbled, rolling onto his side. The two older wizards regarded him in surprise. Albus recovered first.

"Harry! We did not know you had joined us," he said in a kindly manner. As he spoke, Severus strode to the cabinet and fetched another post-Cruciatus draught. He gave it to the boy with a look that said _'Drink this, or woe betide you.' _Harry drank obediently as Albus, ignoring the byplay, continued. "So, how long were you listening?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I woke up when you were explaining _Maglia_, sir," he admitted.

"At least we don't need to explain everything again," Severus muttered, taking the empty bottle from the boy's hands and bustling away.

"Quite right," Albus agreed cheerfully. Turning to Harry, he inquired, "Do you have any questions about what you heard?"

Brilliant green eyes met radiant blue as Harry thought. "Well, sir," he faltered. "I guess I was wondering... I know how Professor Snape found me here, but as I was waking up I thought I heard you say you arrived only shortly after him. How did _you_ know to come here?"

The blue eyes turned solemn. There was a long pause before Albus answered carefully, "I was compelled to come by a similar, but much less mystical, method."

Harry's eyes widened. _"That_ was why," he breathed, slightly accusing. "You knew the whole time, and... You weren't protecting me as much as _him_..." He trailed off as the Headmaster gave the smallest of nods. His face fell as he reproached, "You didn't care about me because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, but it also wasn't because I'm _me_."

"What in Merlin's name are the two of you babbling about?" Severus had not traveled far enough when removing the vial to be out of earshot, but it did not seem that he paid sufficient attention to catch the entire gist of the exchange. "Albus, don't tell me you've managed to find you way inside the boy's head also, the child will have a Quidditch team in there before long!" He stood over them, folding his arms imperiously.

The two seated wizards exchanged a glance. "Have no fear, Severus, Mr. Potter's head is safe from my intrusion," Albus assured him. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Sir?" he asked timidly, another question coming to him. "Is Professor Snape going to experience all my visions with me, now? I don't think he will enjoy that."

Ignoring Severus's snort at the serious understatement, Albus frowned thoughtfully. "You know, I'm really not sure," he responded. "This time, he felt your distress clearly from a distance, but the actual experience did not begin until he touched your scar, right Severus?" The black-haired man nodded silently. "We know that _Maglia _usually means an awareness of the other's feelings at all times, not just at emotionally taxing moments, so I would guess that your connection will strengthen as your trust in each other strengthens. So eventually... it's a possibility."

"I don't think you are thinking this through, Harry," Severus drawled. "A connection such as ours could be useful at some point, much more so if it is not common knowledge. With you slavishly opening your mind to the Dark Lord at all hours of the day, he will know all that you know before long. Frankly, I'm surprised he hasn't found the prophecy yet." He grimaced. "I don't like to be the one to say it, but you need to learn Occlumency, _especially_ if you are dead set on utilizing your visions. Without it, we will have to keep you uninformed yet again."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, then closed it without making a sound. He sighed heavily. "That makes sense, sir," he admitted reluctantly. Studying his hands, he whispered, "I know what I did last year was unforgivable, Professor, but is there any way you might be able to accept my sincere apology and teach me again?"

Severus blinked. To be frank, he had stopped caring about the Pensieve Incident after hearing the boy's opinion of what he saw. That still did not mean this was a good idea "Don't you think Albus might be a better choice for this?" he asked weakly.

Looking up from the bed, Harry fixed his gaze on the Headmaster, although his response was aimed at Severus. "I may understand now why he did what he did, but that doesn't mean I can trust him the way I need to for this to work," he murmured apologetically. Turning to the black-haired man, he said emphatically, "You've seen the worst; there's nothing left to find. I would rather learn from _you_." His voice lost its confidence as he added, "If you can find it in you to teach me."

Before Severus had a chance to respond Harry leaned closer to Albus, speaking so that only the two of them could hear. "You have treated me more like your trained dog than a sixteen-year-old boy, even if your intentions were good." He held up a hand to forestall the bearded wizard's protests. "I don't blame you, sir, not anymore. I'm not even angry with you. I understand. But I just can't _trust_ you right now, not when I know you don't truly trust me to deal with what I must. I'm sorry."

Reaching out a wrinkled, age-spotted hand, Albus clasped Harry's hand and pulled it down from its place between them. Looking like there was something he wanted to deny, he opened his mouth only to close it wordlessly, before finally saying resignedly, "I understand, Harry." He gave them both a slight smile before leaving the hospital wing.

Feeling confused and considerably left out, Severus cleared his throat. The noise cracked through the silent room like thunder, and his expression wasn't dissimilar as he coolly commented, "If the two of you are _quite_ finished whispering like a couple Hufflepuff girls, I believe you were waiting for a response from me?"

Chastened, the young men nodded, and Severus continued. "You are going to be living with me this summer, and Albus will not always be readily available, so it does make a certain amount of sense for us to resume your lessons. _However_, you have to put in effort this time; I will not waste my time once again on someone who cannot be bothered to practice."

Harry's face fell, and he retorted, "I'll try as long as you believe me when I tell you I am! There were times when I was giving my best effort, and you just said I wasn't working hard enough." Severus could feel Harry's anger flitting near the surface of his brain, but the boy paused and regained control before speaking again. "I don't want to fight you, I want to _learn_ from you," he said simply. "Do you think we can find a way to do that?"

Feeling slightly defensive, Severus sneered. "It sounds simple enough in theory. I will make every attempt to be less... forceful."

Smirking, Harry responded, "And I will attempt to be less... _Potter-like_."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Very magnanimous of you," he deadpanned. A large growl from the vicinity of Harry's stomach cut off any further sparring. Quirking an eyebrow, Severus commented mildly, "It has been a rather long time since we last ate, hasn't it?" He rapidly summoned a house elf and they soon had breakfast sitting in front of them. As Harry was bringing the first forkful up to his mouth, the professor added casually, "By the way, Albus informed Poppy of your vision last night and you are confined to the hospital wing for at least one more night. Might I suggest you _swallow_ the Dreamless Sleep this time, instead of using it to sedate the giant squid?"

----------

Later that day, Harry managed to sufficiently irritate Madam Pomfrey into allowing him to leave the hospital wing, as long as he returned in time for supper. He was slowly walking toward the library, trailing his fingers idly along the stone wall beside him, when he heard someone call his name.

Harry whirled around, automatically reaching for his wand. His first thought was that whoever this was, he was certainly no threat, but it was several moments later that he finally recognized the man. "Professor Lupin?" he half-asked, half-greeted. "It's good to see you!" Harry could barely manage to choke out the words. He loved seeing his former teacher, but he did not want to see him like this. He tried hard not to gape as he asked quietly, "How are you?"

Remus had continued to make his slow way toward his ex-student. His gait was uneven, as if his dreadfully thin legs could no longer support his weight. The clothing that sagged on his emaciated frame appeared to have been worn for at least several days, and his hair was as scattered as Harry's used to be. Finally reaching the boy, he smiled, although the expression failed to reach his eyes. "It _is_ you, Harry, isn't it?"

Harry wanted to smack himself on the head. They had forgotten to recast the charm. _'I hope we weren't trying to keep this a secret,'_ he thought wryly. Laying a hand on Lupin's arm, he said reassuringly, "Yes, sir, it's me. I'm surprised you recognized me."

Lupin shrugged listlessly. "You still move the same." His eyes slid away from the boy's. "Would you like to walk with me to the Headmaster's office? I believe I'm running a bit late." Harry nodded obediently, and the two set out for the gargoyle. As they turned a corner, they were very nearly ploughed down by Snape.

"Ah, hello, Lupin," Severus greeted levelly. He studied the two men before him. He had been working in his lab when waves of shock and worry began to wash over him, and now he could see why.

Severus moved to the side to allow the others to pass, although he then began to follow them in the direction he had come from. "What brings you to Hogwarts?" he queried, sounding almost interested in the reply.

"Albus asked for a meeting," the man replied tonelessly. "I don't know what he wanted to discuss." It was a true mark of Remus's distraction that he had not yet noticed the newfound resemblance between the two men flanking him.

Severus felt like he might drown in the crush of emotions he was receiving from Harry. He felt an unwilling empathy for the boy; his godfather had died a month ago, the abusive Dursleys were dead, he had received quite a shock (_'Although not nearly as large as you,'_ he reminded himself), and now the remaining Marauder, Harry's link to his past, was having a breakdown. Severus scowled, confused by the unfamiliar actions his mind was urging him toward. He wanted to make the boy happy, fix things and make them better, but _he_ did not do things like that! Telling himself he was acting for purely selfish reasons--until something changed he would have to deal with this sniveling in his head--he said abruptly, "Lupin, please stop by my office before you leave, I'd like to discuss some alterations to the Wolfsbane Potion that I've been considering."

"Okay," the werewolf said vaguely, and Severus took that as his cue to leave. Bowing slightly in farewell, he spun around and headed toward the dungeons.

He headed straight for his office, where he collapsed into his chair, staring blankly at the fireplace. He couldn't deny a feeling of relief that he had made the effort with Lupin, and that worried him. Harry had recognized what he intended to do, and the boy's gratitude flowing through his mind was oddly pleasant. This was all Harry's fault! He'd never been helpful before--he was the bastard of the dungeons, he didn't care! Feeling an intense headache coming on, Severus _accio_ed a bottle of whiskey and a glass. If he had to deal with one of his childhood enemies, he was sure a hell not going to be sober enough to do all this _thinking_ at the same time.

**_A/N:_**_ Hope you enjoyed. Please review, let me know what you like and what you don't, it's the only way I know what to change for the future! --Piton_

**_Responses to Reviews:_**

**Pearl of the Moon (Pearly ;) ), ElavielBlack, Marauders-Lover, Makalani Astral, MirreZ, Alynna Lis Eachann, GoddessMoonLady, Cyn Wraith, MoonpoettessZ, leggylover03, kateydidnt, sesshyluver03, Potter Reader, HecateDeMort, ShadowedHand: **Thanks so much for the great reviews! You guys make my day, and it really helps to know which parts of the story really work for you. A lot of you have reviewed for most every chapter, and hugs for that!

**Anna Taure:** Alas, I don't read French or I would check out your fic. :) I like Dumbledore, I really do, but I think everyone in his world needs to wake up and figure out that he's not God. As for Harry and Snape, this answers a bit of that question; at least they both know what's going on now, all that remains to be seen is how they will deal with it.

**Bella Black:** There will be more darkness later on, I promise. I'm pretty sure there will also be some Bellatrix, but not for quite a while yet.

**Vyxgallanxchi: **Yup, a mile in someone else's shoes will really get you somewhere. :) Dumbledore... is complicated. He cares a lot about these people, but the only way he knows how to show that is through manipulation. He is trying, though, honest! Let me know if you still feel like you are missing something; I often forget that everyone else doesn't have the advantage of being in my head when they're reading this.

**Loony Lisa Lovegood:** Let me say first, I love your name! And what a great review--I felt so great after reading it! I love canon Snape, even though I think he's devilishly hard to write (I can just imagine him smirking about that). Let me know how well he's staying in character; the more the story develops, the harder it is not to lose the snarkiness we love!

**Padawan Jan-AQ: **Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you caught that, about Harry's dream self; I wasn't sure it was clear enough. I'm glad you like it so far!

**Molly Morrison:** Ah, a fellow Italian Harry Potter reader! The name changes crack me up. I've only read Harry Potter e la Camera dei Segreti in italiano, though. Don't be too impressed--my native language, and definitely the only one I'm fit to write in, is definitely English. As for Dumbledore... that complicated man! Sometimes _I_ don't even know what he's up to! I'm glad you like it so far!


	6. Relationships

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter One._

**_Disclaimer2: _**_I am not a mental health professional, and Severus Snape most certainly is not either. My portrayal of someone suffering from depression comes from extensive personal experience, that is all. I am trying to handle the subject with sensitivity and understanding, and it is certainly not my aim to make light of an illness that disables tens of thousands of people every year._

**_A/N: _**_A couple people asked where Maglia came from. It is entirely a product of my twisted little mind, although I'm sure I was partially inspired by some fics I've read with similar ideas. I'm sorry about the delay getting this chapter out, but I have come to realize that I need to find a beta for this. Not for typos or grammar, really, since I am pretty good at catching those types of things, but someone to help keep everyone as IC as possible, and someone to bounce plot ideas off of, etc. Let me know if anyone is interested. --Piton_

**_A/N2: _**_This chapter is dedicated to white-blaze-dragon, who I unfortunately neglected to thank at the end of last chapter. My apologies! --P_

**Chapter 6 - Relationships**

Severus was just beginning to feel a pleasant drunken haze descending when he heard a knock on his door. Quickly sending the bottle and cup to their proper places, he called sullenly, "Enter."

The door eased open soundlessly, and Lupin slunk inside, sinking into a chair near the fire. When several minutes passed without receiving so much as a glance, Severus lost his patience. "I did not ask you here to examine my hearth," he snapped.

"What did you want?" the other man asked, sounding defeated.

Severus hesitated. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish with this t?ete-a-te?te. He had been in Lupin's position many times before, and it had always fallen on Albus to bring him out of it. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. _'I could just do what he always does,'_ he mused, snorting internally at the image of him plying Remus with platitudes and lemon drops. His normal tactics of sarcasm and intimidation were clearly not the ideal choice, though, either. Stalling slightly, he ignored the question, querying mildly, "What did Albus want?"

The werewolf shrugged. "A DADA teacher," he said tonelessly, laying his head against the plush green fabric of the chair back. Closing his eyes, he added in tones of self-loathing, "I told him to find a teacher who would not kill his students."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, withholding his sigh. The sentiment was alarmingly reminiscent of his habitual mindset, but however much he might recognize the feelings, sympathy and compassion were not within his capabilities. He was reasonably sure that any normal human emotions had been burned out of his psyche the night the Dark Mark had burned into his skin. He could feel Harry's emotions in the back of his mind, the worry seeming to insinuate itself into his every thought. Cautiously, he observed, "Harry will be very glad to hear about your return to teaching."__

Lupin nodded absently, eyes still closed. "He's an excellent student," he commented with a hint of his typical warmth. His eyes snapped open to meet Severus's as he added, "He must get it from _his father,_ wouldn't you agree?"

It took all his ability as a former spy not to outwardly cringe. Clearing his throat, he declared, "Albus would not have offered you the job if he believed you to be a danger to the students." He hoped Lupin was unaware of just how inept the Headmaster had proven to be when it came to filling this post.

His guest's eyes slid shut once more, as he murmured, "Even Albus Dumbledore can make mistakes."

Severus lost what little remained of his patience. Deciding it would be prudent to get his former schoolmate out of his office before he completely lost control of his tongue, he stood and moved to a cabinet. Pulling out a large beaker, he handed it to his colleague. "I want you to drink a cup of this every morning."

Remus glanced dubiously at the liquid. "What, exactly, is this that you are giving me?" he asked mildly.

Severus met his eyes. "I think you know." He continued reluctantly. "You have proven to be considerably less useless than those Albus normally chooses to fill this position. However, you are not capable of anything in your current mindset, and I think you know it." He hesitated; he knew what needed to be asked next, but the irony of _him_ being the person to say it was almost too much to be born. _'I did not have nearly enough to drink for this,'_ he thought resignedly. Clearing his throat, he fixed his steady black gaze on the other man.

"Lupin, since we started this conversation you have shown a total lack of interest in your future as well as a poorly concealed self-hatred. I have to ask you," the silken tones faltered, "Have you had any thoughts of... hurting yourself?"

The werewolf reared back indignantly, almost knocking over his chair. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Snape," he hissed. "You're probably dancing inside. 'Good old Lupin's gone crazy, finally as loony as some might imagine.' Well, sod off! I don't need your help!" He stood and stormed toward the door, only to realize it was stuck fast. Letting out a growl worthy of the wolf within him, he spun around and glared at the potions master. "Let me out!" he demanded.

Severus stood, maintaining eye-contact. "We are not finished talking. Sit. Down." There was a long silence as both waited for the other to break. Finally Lupin grudgingly thre himself back into his chair. Severus gave a mental sigh of relief. He did not have the patience to deal with someone in this mood. Lupin was acting like... him! It was a remarkably _un_helpful thought. Severus sighed. _'Physician, heal thyself,'_ he thought bitterly.

Remus broke the silence. "So? What else did you want to say so desperately?" he sneered.

The black-haired man rubbed a hand over his face. "Will you take the potion?" he asked wearily.

"Sure," Lupin snarled sullenly.

"Forgive me if I'm not reassured," Severus snarled right back. With a growl, he stated, "Lupin, you are obviously depressed. Anyone that spends more than thirty seconds with you can see it. We need you to take that potion; _I_ need you to take that potion, because if you end up offing yourself Harry is going to feel responsible, and he carries plenty of guilt without your selfishness adding to it."

Lupin's eyebrows shot up. "Selfishness? How dare you, Severus--"

"I dare," he cut him off, "because that is what it is." Gritting his teeth, he said almost inaudibly, "I know how you feel. Your life is dark, and all you want to do is go to sleep and never wake up, but that is not an option. The Order needs you. Apparently, to my dismay, Hogwarts needs you. Eventually, this will pass and you will see that, but until then, you have to trust me."

There was a long moment of perfect silence while Lupin stared blankly at the potions master, before breaking into peals of harsh, false laughter. It was Snape's turn to stare as Lupin snickered, choking out, "I cannot believe you just said all that! Are you sure this is really Severus Snape?"

Frowning stiffly, Severus stood, waving a hand to open the door. "I think we are done here. Drink the bloody potion or not, it matters little to me." As Lupin's laughter faded away, he stormed out the door and, lacking anywhere better to go, stalked into his classroom. Deciding he needed some thoughtless work to calm himself, he opened the student cupboard and began taking inventory. The work was soothing, and he was scarcely aware of the time passing. As he set the last bottle back on the shelf, he heard the door creak open. Lupin's voice rang through the still room.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I... I don't know why I'm acting like this."

Severus gripped the countertop firmly with both hands, breathing deeply to collect himself. "It's an act I'm quite familiar with," he said finally, turning to face the door.

Encouraged, Remus stepped into the room, perching on a stool. "I took the potion," he offered. "I know it's not quite morning, but it takes a while to really work anyway, doesn't it?"

Severus nodded. "Was there anything else you came to say?" he asked impatiently.

"Sit down, Severus," the other man said softly. "We've discussed what you needed to say, but not what you need to hear."

The potions master narrowed his eyes. "And that is?"

Remus began an intense scrutiny of his hands. "I know about you and Harry," he murmured.

Like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed, Severus collapsed onto the closest stool. "How?" he whispered in shock.

Still keeping his eyes fixed on his lap, Remus admitted reluctantly, "I helped Lily find the best spell to alter his appearance." Glancing up, he added accusingly, "She loved you, you know."

The words hit Severus like a hurricane: unwelcome, unexpected, and devastating. "She loved _James,_" he snapped. "She barely knew me."

Remus shook his head, standing. "Are you truly that blind?" he asked incredulously. Holding up a hand, he forestalled Severus's retort. "Just think about it, that's all I ask. And, Severus, I'm happy for you and Harry. He has a lot of love to give, if you allow him half a chance." He headed for the door. "If you ever want to talk, you know where my office is," he called over his shoulder. Pushing open the door, he turned slightly and added mischievously, "I promise I'll try not to laugh at you the next time."

----------

As the two men were finishing their conversation, Harry was kneeling in the Charms hallway, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions coming from Severus. _'Come on, Snape,'_ he thought, irritated, _'Clear your mind! Where are those Occlumency skills now, huh?'_ Beneath the annoyance was something that felt curiously like worry; he may not know Severus Snape that well but the man fairly oozed stoicism. Harry was not sure he wanted to know what had caused the man this level of confusion, guilt, frustration, anger, and pain.

Slowly, slowly, the emotions tapered off, leaving only a low-level dissatisfaction. In spite of himself, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Still kneeling, he made his way to the wall, leaning against its reassuringly solid surface. He folded his arms across his chest, scowling at nothing in particular. This _Maglia_ thing was hardly something he had asked for. He did not much like the feeling of being this transparent to someone else, and he _certainly_ did not like this bizarre concern for Snape that had suddenly appeared in his psyche. Intellectually, he knew this wasn't the man's fault, but it was a hard fact to accept. _He_ had known about their relationship for years, and then the second the professor finds out, _bang!_ he's hit with all these weird emotions and his visions are no longer his alone.

Harry scowled. It was difficult to tell how much of this anger originated with his weird new connection, and how much was a result of five years mistreatment at the hands of his alleged father. Mistreatment that he had never even _apologized_ for, by the way. He shook his head, casting aside the pointless thoughts. What he really needed was someone to talk to about this, but where would he find anyone here? Dumbledore? Not bloody likely. Lupin, ordinarily, would be a great choice, but the man had definite issues of his own to work through at the moment. He jumped to his feet, remembering another person who knew much of the situation. _'Perfect!' _Harry crowed internally. _'After all, Hermione likes nothing better than to tell everyone what to do.'_ With that thought in mind, he headed for the Owlery.

----------

_Dear Hermione,_

_I don't really know how to start this letter. Well, I'm at Hogwarts; you've probably heard about the Dursleys by now. The worst part is that I had been having visions about this and they just would not listen to me! If I had just _done_ something, they would not have died._

_The next important bit of news is that Snape has figured out our secret. Not on his own, Dumbledore passed on a letter. There's really no point in beating around the bush; even Voldemort knows now._

_He's my bloody father. Does it surprise you that even knowing that doesn't change his opinion of me? That may be overstating a bit--our views of each other have changed slightly... This is something that should wait until I see you, I think._

_The _Point Me_ spell no longer works for "Harry Potter". Do you know why? That's still my name, shouldn't that be enough for the spell?_

_I can hear you now. "You're the one in the castle with the huge library, look it up!" I would never do that, and take away your fun. Admit it; you would be a bit let down if I did everything on my own._

_They've taken off the charms. I like my new look, despite my frightening resemblance to a certain greasy git. I suppose that is a bit strange, but even though I look like him, I feel more like _me_, if that makes any sense._

_I saw Lupin today. He looks bad, Herm, I'm worried about him. I think Snuffles's death hit him hard, and it bothers me that there's nothing I can do help him. A little late to try to help, isn't it. Not leading Snuffles to his death would have "helped"._

_I think I should end this letter before it gets too depressing. I'm going to ask Dumbledore (or maybe Snape, since he's technically in charge of me now) if you can come here for a visit on my birthday. It would be really great to talk to you. Ron too, but I think we need to have a plan to deal with him, first. He will not take this well._

_I hope you are enjoying your summer break, and try not to study too much! Get out and have some fun!_

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Harry had just tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, and was watching his owl fly away when there was a familiar tongue of flame and another letter abruptly appeared in front of him. He snatched the floating red feather out of the air with a little smile. "I'm in the castle with you, was it really necessary to send Fawkes?" he asked aloud. Picking up the yellowed envelope, his smile faded abruptly. Although he had never seen this writing before, he _knew_ this was his letter from his mother.

**_A/N: _**_I recently asked the readers of my other fic (which you should read if you like SS/HG Time-Turner pairings) this question, and now I'm asking you guys. I can keep responding to every review that I get, but it will hold back updates by about a day. If you'd rather not wait for updates, I can just answer any specific questions or CC anyone gives. And of course you can always email me if you want a response, too. So, would you rather have quick updates and a couple responses, or responses for all reviewers and a slight delay? Let me know--your wish is my command! :) --Piton_


	7. Letters

**_Disclaimer: _**_See Chapter One._

**Chapter 7 - Letters**

_My Dearest Son,_

_I hate writing this letter, I hate trying to explain something so complicated using nothing more powerful than quill and parchment, and most of all I hate this war that makes this letter a necessary precaution. I hope you never read this; I want to tell you everything to your face, look in those beautiful green eyes of yours and explain what is happening._

_It is difficult to write this for that reason, Harry. I don't want to think that I may not be there for you as you grow, that there is an excellent chance I will be no more than a shadow, the ghost of a memory in your mind. I cannot imagine what your life has been like if this is so. If both James and I are gone, I suppose you have been living with Sirius._

Never take his advice when it comes to girls, Harry. He's a dog in more ways than one.

_By the way, James also says hi. Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was wondering what your life has been like. I hope Sirius (who really isn't the best example to follow in the realm of dating, James is right) has told you every day how loved you were, and still are, and always will be. Never doubt that, Harry, my beautiful baby boy. As I write this you are sitting on James's lap, blowing raspberries at your mum, as if to say "Enough with the soppy stuff, already!" I will follow the command of your younger self, and simply say that we love you, James and I, and we always will._

_You may be wondering why you are receiving this letter at this particular time in your life. Hopefully, you already know, because Severus has gotten his letter and spoken to you, but I'm not holding my breath. Now that I'm writing this, I don't know how to tell you what needs to be said, so I am going to tell you a story._

_Once upon a time (if you have been raised as a wizard, you may not understand the significance of the phrase, but in the Muggle world most every good story starts with "Once upon a time") there lived a girl named Lily. She was a fairly normal girl, perhaps more studious than most; in fact she became Head Girl in her seventh year. She spent much of her time with four boys from her House, in fact, she and her best friend, James, spent so much time together that everyone assumed they were dating. They weren't, however, although James would have liked that very much. They tried, Lily tried, but she just couldn't put her heart into it, because she had already given it to someone else._

_There was another boy, a seventh year Slytherin named Severus Snape. James and his friends hated him, made him miserable, but Lily thought he was incredible. They had worked together in Charms the year before, and she had gotten to know him, to recognize the emotions in his flashing black eyes, to hear the intelligence flowing through his rich low voice._

_She was, perhaps, a bit obsessed._

There was no "perhaps" about it, Harry.

_All idiocy from the peanut gallery aside, he has a point, I suppose. So, Lily and Severus became friends of a sort, but never more; Severus did not seem to see Lily, not the way she wished he would. And so the year passed, Lily, James, and their friends having fun, everyone believing the two were dating, and Lily taking every opportunity to spend time with Severus that she could find. And making up new opportunities when there were none available. But still, he did not return her feelings. Finally, the end of the year came, and almost the entire class showed up at a graduation party held by Narcissa Black._

_As soon as they got there, James and his friends abandoned Lily in favor of mischief-making. Feeling a little lonely, she began to drink. A lot. (Take your mother's advice; never drink so much that you can no longer pronounce your name. It's never a particularly bright idea.) And who should wander into her one-woman drinking party but Severus. Never one for crowds, he stayed with her, imbibing almost as much as Lily. _

_To make a long story short, you were conceived that night. I was silly enough to mistake what had happened for something more meaningful, until Severus finally, painfully, disabused me of that notion. I was terribly upset and hurt, but it wasn't his fault that I had read into our interaction something that was not there. _

_James thinks I should gloss over the story for you, make up something pretty--_

I believe I said "something that won't permanently squick him and give him nightmares for the rest of his life!"

_But I don't want you to think that your conception is something I'm ashamed of. You are the light of my life, a beacon of hope in these dark days, and I cannot regret anything that brought me you. Moreover, you deserve to know the truth, especially now that you are rapidly approaching the age I was when all this happened--a frightening thought!_

_ You are probably wondering why you aren't living with Severus right now. Well, sweetheart, the last time I saw him we parted on bad terms. He doesn't know about you; I discovered something about him that made him untrustworthy, and so I have kept the details of my pregnancy a secret. I'm sure you know all about the war we are currently embroiled in (although I hope it is ancient history for you); Voldemort and his Death Eaters against the world. James and I are fighting against him, which is part of why we are in such danger. Severus, I'm sad to say, is a Death Eater._

_ Don't judge him too harshly, Harry. He has made an awful choice, but things are not always simple, and to be in Slytherin House in our time meant you were under almost unbearable pressure to pledge loyalty to You-Know-Who. I am not condoning his choice or his actions, and I don't claim to know his mind, but I cannot believe that the boy who spoke to me so passionately about his potions research could possibly, truly, buy into the Death Eater philosophy. He will turn back to our side, Harry, I am sure of it, because deep down he is a good man._

Nasty and greasy as the best of them, I think you mean to say.

_ I told you they did not get along. James has a bit of a point though; Severus, should he still be living in your time, is probably still a very unpleasant man. He does not have the temperament for pleasantries or politeness. I do hope you have inherited my disposition, although it seems unlikely to look at you._

_ Which brings me to the reason for the timing of you receiving this letter. I know you have gone through your life bearing a startling resemblance to James; in fact, you're probably thinking I'm delusional, saying you are Severus's child! It is not safe right now for anyone to figure out your true parentage, and the moment you were born it became obvious that to keep the secret we would have to change your appearance._

_ We've charmed your appearance to look like James's; unfortunately, if you have studied this type of magic yet, you know that appearance-altering charms tend to wear off as a child's powers fully mature. We intend to remove the charm as soon as it is safe to do so, but if you are reading this we obviously did not get the chance._

_ Harry, this is heavy news, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way. If you have any questions you can talk to Albus Dumbledore, who should be the man who gave you your letter, or Remus Lupin, if he is living. Remus was a dear, dear friend of myself and James, and was instrumental in crafting the spell for your appearance. If you are living with Sirius as I assume, I'm sure you know Remus well._

_ I have one last thing to ask of you, my sweet boy, before I put down my quill and take your infant self to bed. Ask Dumbledore about Severus; he will know the man's loyalties better than anyone else. If he has returned to the Light, please give him a chance. His life has been hard, and has probably only gotten worse in the interim. Take a measure of the man today before judging him too harshly for past misdeeds. It would make me so happy to know you two have found each other._

_ My story has come to a close, and I have to go because you are getting quite cranky now! If you take nothing else away from this letter, know this: I love you, my darling boy, and I wish I could be there to see the wonderful young man you have become._

I'd like to see you play Quidditch--I've been telling Lily you are a natural, but I don't think she believes me.

_Be strong, Harry, and be happy. That's all I want._

_ Love always,_

_ Lily and_ James

----------

_Dear Harry,_

_ I am sorry to hear about the Dursleys, not because I feel any real sorrow for their passing, but because it has caused you pain. Don't blame yourself for this: they beat you and starved you and belittled you, and in the end it was their choice not to listen to you. I know you, Harry, you would have done anything to save them had you been physically able. Shake your head all you like; deep down inside I know you recognize the truth of the situation._

_ So, Snape knows now, eh? You knew we were going to have to enlist someone's help soon, anyway; reinstating the old spell won't work when it starts to decay, which should happen any day now. Although, you said you've removed the charms anyway, didn't you, so it's no longer an issue. It must be somewhat of a relief not to have to try to hide everything anymore. If Voldemort really knows, you don't ever need to use the charm again if you don't want it. It's not strange at all that you prefer your new look; I always told you I thought it was quite sexy._

_ Stop blushing, I don't mean it _that_ way._

_ So, he really didn't know before this. That's something, I suppose--at least, that he didn't behave that way knowing your relationship. Don't expect everything to change overnight, I'm sure he's feeling overwhelmed right now. Do you remember how you reacted when you found out? Crookshanks is still a little wary around you (don't worry, as long as he's not trying to eat you I think you're okay). Just give the Professor some time. I don't picture him as someone overly in tune with his emotions; the way he treated you all these years was proof enough of that. You did say your opinions of each other have changed slightly, just keep that in mind, and take deep breaths. Count to ten before you say anything; advice Professor Snape could probably use, also._

_ Not that I'd tell him; I don't have any desire to get my head bitten off, thank you._

_ I think I'll write to Professor Dumbledore, too, about a visit--not only because I'm dying to hear whatever it is you need to say in person! And not only because I want another glimpse of the new you._

_ Honestly, stop blushing. I _don't_ mean it that way, you conceited prat._

_ Okay, let's be serious for a moment and talk about the _Point Me_ spell. I'm not entirely sure why it is no longer working, but I have a hypothesis. Location magic works by finding a being--a spirit, if you know what I mean. This is why it is not fooled by Polyjuice; _Point Me Harry Potter_ will direct you to the soul that identifies itself as Harry Potter. Our identity is an intrinsic part of us, and it can neither be fooled nor purposefully altered (disregarding the Dementor's Kiss, and even that cannot alter, only destroy). This is not to say that out identities are permanent or static, because they are occasionally capable of change. If I got married to you (breaking the hearts of millions of readers of Witch Weekly, I'm sure), for example, my being would recognize itself as both Hermione Granger and Hermione Potter, because they would both be important parts of my identity. If my parents and I had an enormous row and they disowned me, it is entirely possible that you would not be able to find me using _Point Me Hermione Granger_, because my psyche would have differentiated itself from my family and their name. Simply put, your identity, your psyche, is confused right now; you aren't sure who you are. That's why the spell is not working for you--deep inside you no longer see yourself as Harry Potter. I bet if someone tried _Point Me Harry_, it would work, because you still identify yourself as Harry. If you are looking for a way to fix this, I'm afraid I can't help you, other than to tell you to figure out your identity. This is all guesswork, Harry, so don't worry overmuch about it just now. You might want to mention this to Dumbledore and come up with an alternative method for locating you, though; the Order's ability to find you might save your life at some point._

_ I still think it would be good for you to venture into the library and read a book or two while you are there. Just a suggestion._

_ I will owl Professor Lupin, also, if only to try to set my own mind at rest. It must be hard for him to lose his friend; he has so few. Make sure he knows you are there for him, maybe it will help. It will certainly do no one any good for you to continue flogging yourself over Snuffles's death! Harry, I do not know what to say to you to take away your pain and guilt; I think only you can do that. Please accept that your godfather loved you and would have done anything for you, as you would have for him. You cared so much about him that you needed to go save him, so desperately that you were unable to think clearly enough to recognize the possibility of a trap. You didn't ask him to go, you didn't intend to cause him harm, and you weren't the one to make him fall through that veil. You have to let it go. He would have wanted you to._

_ And as for Ron... I'm sure his reaction will at least be amusing! The first few seconds, anyway. I know it's unlikely that he will take this well, but that's his problem, just remember that. If he cannot look beyond your appearance and realize you are still the same Harry he's always loved, he is not worth your friendship. I don't think it will come to that, however. He'll need time, and you'll need to ignore his reactions at first, because you know all too well that he talks before he really thinks. You can handle it; you are strong, and God knows you have dealt with Ron's stupidity before._

_ All the adoring girls that will be flocking to your new look will help, too._

_ Have fun this summer, Harry; you've earned it._

_ Love,_

_ Hermione_

_----------_

_ Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_ I'm writing to you about Harry. I've received a letter from him, and I am aware of the changes he is facing in his life right now, not to mention his rather perilous mental state. I know students are not allowed at Hogwarts during the summer, but I beg you to make an exception and let me come speak to him. He needs a friend right now, Professor. I also read in Hogwarts: A History, that students were allowed to stay during the summers of 1943-45 as well as 1115-1119, so there is a precedent for this. Granted, those were war situations, but now is also, isn't it sir, and Harry is affected by it more than anyone. Let me come, at least for his birthday, for his sake. Thank you for listening._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Hermione Granger_

_----------_

_ Dear Professor Lupin,_

_ How are you? Harry said he saw you in Hogwarts a few days ago--there isn't any chance we'll be getting another year of lessons from the best DADA professor we've ever had, is there? I hope so, and not only because it would make Harry so happy._

_ Harry wrote to me with a question that I thought you might be better able to answer. He told me that the _Point Me_ spell no longer is effective for Harry Potter. My guess was that his psyche has become sufficiently confused regarding his identity that the spell is not recognizing him. I have no idea if that is truly the case, or if there is a precedent for this sort of spell malfunction, but I would love to hear any thoughts you have on the subject._

_ Thank you so much for your help, Professor; I appreciate your kindness. I have been quite bored sitting here all summer, and have been reading everything I can get my hands on to keep myself busy. I would love to hear from you, if you ever wanted to write and tell me about your day, or your work, or your headache... whatever. I have been told I can be quite a good listener, especially when "listening" entails reading letters. Just a thought from one of your terribly bored ex-students. I hope you are enjoying the summer weather, Professor._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Hermione Granger_

_----------_

_ Dear Miss Granger,_

_ I am aware of young Harry's situation, and I agree that having someone to speak to other than us old coots would do him a world of good. Please feel free to come and stay for as long as you deem necessary; just let me know what day you plan to leave and a staff member will come to your house to Apparate you and your belongings. Harry is lucky to have a friend such as yourself, and you should feel quite honored that he trusts you so._

_ Thank you for your information from Hogwarts: A History; it was quite informative._

_ Yours Truly,_

_ Professor A. Dumbledore_

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Many thanks to Ammarine, wonder beta, for pointing out those times when I'm just not making sense! Thanks for all your reviews, they are more help than you know. Most everyone indicated they would rather see updates ASAP than responses to all reviewers, so as a sort of compromise I will just respond to any reviews with specific questions (other than "What's going to happen next?") and/or constructive criticism. If you want to communicate more, you can always shoot me an email. PLEASE don't take my lack of response here as a sign that I don't read and value each and every review, because I truly do. Next chapter, Snape fetches Hermione, Harry and Severus experience familial discord, and the Ministry rears its ugly head._

**_Responses to Questions:_**

**Starr Light1:** Well, I'm not so great with dates, myself (I'm in the middle of a time-turner fic, and I had to make a chart because I kept getting so confused!), so I don't really have a precise date in mind. As close as I can get is early-to-mid July, obviously before Harry's birthday.


End file.
